Bittersweet: A phantom of the opera story
by GigiMusic
Summary: A year after the fire the Opera Populaire reopens with one problem:no one has replaced Raoul as the patron. Untill Celia Godain,a stubborn member of the Parisian high society with a passion for music shows up and surprises everyone, including the phantom
1. Chapter 1

Bittersweet- a Phantom of the Opera story

Chapter 1: In 666 ways I love you

Celia's PoV

I try to ignore the pain in my heart as I watch Stefano walk by, while holding Dominqiue's hand in his. Despite the fact that he knows I feel more for him than I should, we are close friends. That doesn't mean I like seeing him together with _her_, though.

I force myself to not let it spoil my evening. I'm currently standing in front of my favorite place in entire Paris: the Opera populaire. I've always had a passion for the fine arts, especially music. I play violin myself and I've always held interest in the wellbeing of this particular opera. I even wanted to be the new patron 2 years ago but compte Raoul Chagney beat me to it. Knowing him he became a patron just to have an excuse to stare at that soprano, Christine something, not because of his devoted love to the art. But of course, since he's a man he'd be the better patron. Excuse me if I sound a bit bitter.

My parents and I are being taken to our seats and I force myself not to stare jealously at Stefano and Dominique, who, unknowingly, had taken the seats a few rows in front of me.

Just as the opera is about to start my father looks at me.

"You know, the last patron has married off one of the singers and has left Paris after the theater burned down last year. They're still looking for a new one and knowing how much you would have wanted to be the patron last time, your mother and I do not mind it if you'd fill the open position De Chagney left. Besides, it's not like we're able to stop you now that you'll be 20 years of age next week. "

For one moment I forget my broken heart as hug my parents. The last time I was only 17 when the managers of the Opera announced they were looking for a new patron and I wasn't exactly happy when my parents forbid me to become one. After all, I wasn't only too young for the job back then, it's still highly unusual for a woman to become a patron and certainly not if you are part of the Parisian high society like I am.

On the other hand, my parents know how stubborn I can be about the things that I love and they've always been more tolerant than most. If they hadn't been, I wouldn't even have been allowed to play a musical instrument because of my sex, let alone get involved in leading an Opera building.

One week later I officially announced myself as the new patron to the entire staff.

Erik's PoV

I curiously watch the new patron as she makes her first official announcement. She's young, I'd guess about 20 or 21 years old, and she has reddish-blond hair and fiery blue eyes. Apparently her name is mademoiselle Celia Godain and judging by her clothes, she's a descendant from a wealthy family. I can't help but to be intrigued by her. As far as I know she's the first female patron this opera building ever had and I know some people will be skeptical about her talents because of her sex. After all, it's highly unusual for a woman to do this job.

I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, though, as long as she's willing to cooperate. She possibly couldn't be worse than that damn fop Raoul. I sigh, forcing myself to give my attention to young woman again instead of recalling the still painful memories of Christine.


	2. Chapter 2

Bittersweet chapter 2:Whispered warnings

(Celia's PoV)

A few days later after I had introduced myself to everyone, Firmin , one of the managers, asks me to come to his office.

"Mademoiselle, I must tell you something you need to know about this opera and its residents. Tell me, have you ever heard about the Opera Ghost?"

I nod. "Multiple people have told me about a mysterious man who used to scare everyone here. Even though apparently no one has ever really met him and have seen nothing but a flash of his cloak or mask and haven't heard from him since the fire in this building a year ago, they all seem convinced he's still a threat to this place."

Firmin looks at me. "Do not underestimate the ghost, mademoiselle. Yes, he's been silent since the fire but now that the opera is completely rebuild again, it's only a matter of time before he'll be back and if you don't do as he says, terrible things will happen."

"Have you ever met him yourself? Talked to him?"

Firmin looks at me like I've gone insane.

"Talk to him? He'd kill me in a heartbeat. Why do you even ask mademoiselle?"

"Just curious, that's all. I'd like to know more about him, know with whom I'm dealing. That's not that strange, isn't it?"

"No but once again, do not underestimate him. Don't go look for him either, it will be the last thing you do."

"Of course I will not."

"Alright. If you want to know more about him, perhaps madame Giry could help you out."

Madame Giry gives me a worried look.

"Are you sure you want to talk to him?"

"Yes and I would really appreciate it if you don't tell anyone about what I'm going to do."

I sigh. ´´Look, according to all the stories I´ve heard about him so far, he´s impossible to beat and will not go away. I don´t think I, or Andre or Firmin for that matter, have any other choice but to respect him and his wishes. You may correct me if I´m wrong but the best way to show that respect is to talk to him and show him I mean no harm. Since none of the strong men here are willing to do that, it seems I have to do it myself.

Besides, even though he´s as unpredictable as the weather, according to you he has never harmed you because you helped him out and there´s always a chance he might treat me the same as soon as he realize I´m not a threat.

Before I know it I´m deep in the basements underneath the opera building, looking at something that appears to be a lair, located at the opposite site of a lake. I also spot a small boat.

Even though the place has an alluring mysterious beauty to it, it also has a dark atmosphere that makes me second guess my decision to not only come here but to come here alone and unarmed as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The voice

(Celia´s PoV)

Suddenly I hear a voice behind me.

''Mademoiselle Godain, the new patron, what brings you here to this secret lair? You've heard the stories, you should know by now the opera ghost doesn't like unexpected visitors."

I turn around in the direction of the voice. Nobody there, of course. I decide to be bold.

"If the Opera Ghost doesn't like unexpected visitors, why hasn't he harmed me yet? After all, his temper is legendary and I'm just a woman who has showed up here all by herself. Could it be surprise? Curiosity? "

"How do I know you've come alone?"

I shrug.

"I can't give you any proof for that, just my word. I know it isn't much but I also have the suspicion that it would be a waste of time to try to convince you that I have indeed come alone and come in peace because you wouldn't believe me anyway."

The voice stays silent.

"Look, it's obvious that you will not leave this place and that it's a bad idea to ignore your wishes, so I thought it might be wise to see if we can come to an agreement. I know the, how do I put this kindly, pompous ways of me predecessor, Raoul De Chagney and I can assure you, I handle things differently than he tends to do.

This time, I hear the voice chuckle.

"Do you not like De Chagney, mademoiselle?"

I blush.

"Monsieur, I do not like to speak evil about others…''

´´But?´´

´´I think he´s a bit of a fop, to be honest.´´

Suddenly a masked man stands in front of me and I jump, before realizing it´s the infamous phantom himself.

´´Pardon me, I did not mean to frighten you. I heard you wanted to discuss business matters with me?´´

´´Yes please.´´

´´Than step into the boat and I´ll bring you to my lair on the other side of the lake. At least ther we can sit comfortably.´´


	4. Chapter 4

Bittersweet Chapter 4: An unorthodox business meeting

Celia's PoV

As we step into the boat and sail across the lake, the phantom continues to give me suspicious looks. I nervously remember madame Giry's warnings about his temper and decide to point out once again, very carefully I might add, that I mean no harm. Before I open my mouth, he beats me to it, though.

"Did you really came here to talk business matters with me mademoiselle? I warn you, as soon as I get too suspicious…."

"Yes, I really did came here to talk about business, monsieur. Like I said, since neither of us is willing to stop running this Opera building in his, or her, own way and leave, we're stuck with each other. So, why not try to make the most out of it?"

He seems to ponder this for a moment before he looks at me.

"I admit you do have a point. It's just that you…You're the first patron who ever came down here and tried to reason with me and I confess I do not really know what to think of all of this, since saying this approach is unorthodox is a bit of an understatement."

"Well, if I wasn't an unorthodox woman, I wouldn't only have been here talking to you right now, I wouldn't even be the first female patron this opera has ever seen," I point out. "Perhaps my unorthodox ideas and the fact that women usually handle certain situations different from men, might explain this new approach. Otherwise, think of it this way: if this was all a trap and I've got police lining up nearby as we speak, do you really think I would have put myself in jeopardy like this? I may be a lot monsieur but I'm not foolish. We both know you could have done anything you wanted to do to me as soon as you saw me and have plenty of time to hide. After all, what threat am I, a petite woman without any fighting skills and a length of 5ft4, to you, a strong man even other strong men fear? You have to admit it would have been a trap that wouldn't have fooled you."

My reasoning seems to convince him as we step ashore and he offers me a seat.

"What are your wishes monsieur?"

"A monthly salary of 20.000 francs and box 5 reserved for me and me alone."

I try to think of a diplomatic reaction before a memory of something I've heard about the phantom triggers a possible solution for the first wish.

"Monsieur, I heard you are a gifted musician and have composed at least one opera. Can I please hear your music?"

His mouth drops and he stares at me like he can't believe his own ears. He's flabbergasted.

"Do you want to hear my music?"

"I didn't mean to offend, forgive me."

"No, you didn't offend me at all!" He sighs sadly, hesitating a little about how to response.

"You're the first person ever to ask me if you could hear my music. That means a lot to me."

I look into his eyes and I could swear they are glossing with moisture. Is this man, who's feared by everyone who has heard of him, forcing back tears after what appears to be a obvious, straight-forward request? Despite everything I've hear about his, I realize I start to feel pity and perhaps even compassion for this strange man as I wonder what the world has put his through in order for him to become what he has became.

That's when the phantom starts to play his music.


	5. Chapter 5

Bittersweet Chapter 5 We can work it out

Celia's PoV

As soon as the phantom has played the first few notes of one of his songs, it's my turn to let my mouth drop and my eyes water. Despite all the stories I've heard about his musical talents I'd never expected in a million years he would be this good.

When he finishes and turns around to see my reaction, I applaud and wipe a tear away.

"It was beautiful, in fact, I'd even call it brilliant. Can I know your name, monsieur?"

He gives me a small but genuine smile.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. It's Erik, Erik Destler." Suddenly a look of confusion stretches across his face.

"But if I may ask, what has my music to do with my demands?"

"Monsieur Destler, here's what I suggest: I cannot give the infamous opera ghost this amount of money without getting complaints from my accountants. However, just today Firmin has informed me there's a decrease in the amount of visitors we attract with our opera 'Hannibal', which means we have to replace it with another, new, opera.

You know enough about this opera to know that we hire most of the composers free-lance, which means they can come and go as they please and no one will ask questions. If you compose our new opera that will attract an audience, I'll pay you the amount of money you've asked as a salary and officially offer you the job of head composer and no one, including my accountants, will have any complaints or suspicion."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Are you offering me a job?"

"I'm giving you a chance to get a job," I correct him. "It depends on if the people will like the opera you'll write if you accept my current offer. However, judging by my own reaction when I hear your music, I'd be really surprised if they wouldn't. So, do we have an agreement?"

"We have, I like a challenge."

"Good. As for box 5, it will be reserved for you. I'm sure madame Giry or I can arrange it. However, I have one request. Look, I honestly don't know how you've managed all this time to watch opera's in box 5 yet nobody, including me, ever saw you there, so it's obvious you do not use the seats. Could I share box 5 with you sometimes? After all, it's big enough for the two of us, I will not use it every time and I promise I will not bother you."

"Why would you want to share a box with a monster like me?" he asks softly.

"I do not think you are a monster Erik," I say, using his first name after realizing that now is not the best time to use formalities like 'monsieur'.

"If you were a monster you would have harmed me as soon as you saw me, if you were a monster you wouldn't have been willing to negotiate and certainly not with a woman and if you were a monster I do not think you would have been able to make music that has touched me deeply."

He hesitates a little before nodding.

"Alright, you can share box 5 with me."


	6. Chapter 6

Bittersweet Chapter 6: The power of equality

Erik's PoV

I remain shocked for what feels to be half an hour after Celia had left, not fully able to believe the past hour or so had happened. After the fire and everything that happened with Christine, I had been more reclusive than ever. At first it was to cure my broken heart, later it was combined with a lack of energy and the feeling of depression to even interfere through notes with the rebuilding of the opera.

At least, until the new patron arrived. At first I had the same curiosity as everyone else since she's both female and a patron but as the days progressed and I continued to keep an eye on her, I realized I had become intrigued.

She had treated me as an equal, instead of a threat, she had shown compassion, she had asked me if she could hear my music. Not even Christine or Antoinette Giry has ever treated me this way.

She's the strangest woman I've ever met but yet I can't help to be fascinated.

Unable to suppress that particular feeling, I decide to start searching for her. I discover she's talking to Giry and I can watch them through the two way mirror I previously used to use to teach and watch Christine through. I can hear every word of their conversation.

Celia's PoV

"Weren't you afraid?" Antoinette asks me, worry laced in her voice.

"I admit I was nervous but then again, who wouldn't after all those stories about him? But once we've got passed the initial shock, I admit I liked our meeting. Not only because we were able to find common ground but also because he actually treated me better than some of the other men I have business meetings with, do. He at least treated me like an equal instead of a naïve, dumb woman who got lucky because her father is rich. Look, I know I could have expected that treatment when I took this job but I still appreciate it when someone actually takes me seriously despite my gender, for a change."

"I must warn you, though, he can be violent and cruel…"

"Antoinette, don't get me wrong, I know he has his flaws. I just don't think his dark side is all there is to him. After all, if he was nothing but evil, you would have never tried to help him and speak of him with such sadness for his fate, right? I promise you I'll be careful but I want to give him a chance and judging by the first impression I have of him, that's not something he gets often."

When I walk into my bedroom that evening the first thing I notice is the rose laying on my pillow. I curiously pick it up and read the note accompanied by it.

"_Thank you for giving me a chance"_

I smile, immediately knowing who gave me the flower. Of course I cannot see him but I have the feeling he's watching my reaction to his little gift.

"Monsieur Destler, I know you're here somewhere but anyway, thank you for the rose, I appreciate it."

I swear I can hear him chuckle.

Eric's PoV

The next evening I decide to go to box 5. It's been quite a long time, or at least measured to my own standards, since I got out of my lair to watch an opera.

A minute after I've arrived at my hiding place in the box, I can hear people approaching.

"So, box 5 is reserved for me, right?"

"Of course madame," the voice that belong s to Andre, answers.

I feel my temper rise as I frown. I thought Celia had promised she would take care of everything! I should have known never to give her only a bit of my trust.

"That's when I suddenly hear another female's voice and it's slightly panting like she's trying to catch her breath. It's Celia.

"Aunt Eleanor, what are you doing here?"

"Celia! What a pleasant surprise! I'm going to watch an opera in box 5."

"Are you sure it's not box 6? It must be box 6, you have reserved that box before with me, remember?"

"You're right, love, it was box 6"

I release the breath I've been holding as I hear Andre, Celia and the other woman walk away. A moment later I hear someone come back and I sigh softly. Why can't I watch the opera in peace?

"Moniseur Destler, it's mademoiselle Godain. I apologize for before, Andre had foolishly allowed my aunt to use this box but fortunately I managed to convince her she had reserved box 6 instead. You know, I would appreciate it if you gave me some kind of sign you really are here and are listening to me because I'm starting to feel like a lunatic who's talking to herself."

I can't help but to grin at her comments. I must admit Godain has a sense of humor. That's when I realize she has actually apologized to me and once again, she manages to surprise me. Feeling guilty of immediately assuming the worst about her, I answer her.

"Don't worry, I've heard you. You can watch the opera in this box if you'd like."

"Thanks."

The opera begins yet I can't help but to give it the amount of attention I usually would have given it since I can't help but to steal glances at Celia to. I realize I've started to feel something I haven't felt in a long time: hope.


	7. Chapter 7

Bittersweet Chapter 7: Music was my first love

A/N: Thank you for the comments Phantommistress, Jane and Brooke I really appreciate it.

Celia's PoV

The following weeks were busy but uneventful. I had found my new routine in life quickly, taking care of the opera, spending time with my friends Angelique and Rosalinde who live both near the opera with their husbands, finding a new friend in Meg Giry and having the occasional talk with Erik Destler. I haven't seen him lately, though. He's probably wrapped up in composing the opera. My suspicions were right about him: as long as we were willing to cooperate and/or work together, no one would receive any complaints from the opera ghost.

I still love and miss Stefano and the rare moments we do meet are bittersweet. I know it's better for me to not see him too often, or else I will never accept his heart belongs to Dominique but our friendship still means a lot to me and it hurts when I can't see him as much as I would have liked.

I'm currently in the room I've moved into the day after I had officially became the patron, playing my violin. I've always loved playing the instrument, it's my greatest passion. I'm so wrapped up in my music I forget my surroundings and jump when I hear someone applaud. When I see no one standing there I roll my eyes.

"Mosieur Destler, I thank you for your sign of appreciation but I would like it if you would actually show yourself. If I didn't know better I would start to doubt my sanity by hearing applauding yet seeing no one who's doing the said action."

A moment later he's standing in front of me, looking curious.

"I didn't know you were a musician and a very skilled one as well."

I blush. "I'm not that good."

"You are. You might be insecure about it but that doesn't mean you're not a talented violinist. Why did you never audition as a musician here?"

I sigh sadly. "I never auditioned because it's inappropriate for a lady of high society to be a musician."

"Since when do you care so much about what's appropriate for a lady? I don't mean to be offensive but you did take the, for a lady very unusual, job as patron."

"I do not care as much about appropriate behavior as others with a comparable heritage may do, that much is true. It's just….My father is the owner of the Banque (bank)of Paris and his most important customers are really strict when it comes to following the rules of society and if I would do such a shocking thing that's so highly inappropriate for a lady like playing a violin in the biggest opera of Paris, they would blame my father for this 'disgrace'. Since my father and mother always have been more tolerant than most and allowed me to do something as passionate, emotional and therefore improper as playing a musical instrument, would result in making my father lose his clients because of it. It would be a poor way to repay them."

"Tell me mademoiselle, did you took this job so that you could be as close as society would allow you, to your dream of working here as a musician?"

I nod. "look, I know it's foolish but…"

"On the contrary mademoiselle, it isn't foolish. And if anyone here can understand the passion one can have for music, the feeling of needing it to live, being unable to breathe without it….. That would be me."

"I wish people could look past social rules sometimes."

"Me too," Erik agrees, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

I excuse myself and get up to go to the bathroom. The moment I open the door, Meg walks past me only to stop and stare. She has spotted the opera ghost in my room.


	8. Chapter 8

Bittersweet Chapter 8 My heart is broke but I have some glue

Celia's PoV

Meg avoids me for the entire following day before knocking on the door of my room that evening.

I reluctantly let her in because even though I do think she's a nice girl, I'm not sure what her opinion is on both the infamous opera ghost and me spending time with him.

"Look, I know that the ghost isn't as evil as most people think and he has been driven by others to do most of the evil things he has done but are you sure you know what you're doing? I was there the last time someone had became close to him. Her name was Christine, he had fallen madly in love with her and when he found out she didn't return those feelings he became furious with jealousy. He nearly killed her fiancé and the previous patron of this opera Raoul, injured others and his anger also caused the fire that nearly destroyed this building."

"Meg, who says history will repeat itself? Besides, I've met Christine and I'm not even remotely like her, so I think it's safe to say that even if this situation would reoccur, I do not think I would make the same decisions she has made"

"I know, I just thought you should know. Be careful." She gives me a worried look before walking away.

"Did you enjoy talking behind my back?"

Suddenly Erik stands in front of me, his anger nearly radiating off of him like a heat wave.

"Monsieur, I do not appreciate eavesdropping. Secondly, did it ever occur to you that I had planned to ask you if I could hear your side of the story, as soon as she had left? So tell me, have you listened in to my conversations before?"

He snorts. "Do you expect me to believe you would really have asked me my view on those events? Not that they're any of your or that prying Pandora's concern, by the way! By the way, it's not like you know what it's like to be dismissed by the one you love after being there for her for years!"

"In first of all, I know the world has treated you badly but so far I've shown you nothing but kindness, so do take your anger and frustration others have caused you out on me! Secondly, conversations I have with others, who are just trying to look out for me and mean no ill will, are none of your concern either, so stop being a hypocrite. Besides, asking your point of view is not trying to pry into your private life, it's wanting to know what's going on! On top of that, don't you dare say that I don't know what it's like to be in love with someone who doesn't fully return those feelings because you haven't got the vaguest idea!"

"Like a woman like you would be denied."

I grab the Daguerre picture I have of me and Stefano and show it to him.

"The man you see next to me is Stefano D'Evanchy, one of my best friends. I've been in love with him for over a year now. We would have been a perfect couple if it wasn't for his dear girlfriend Dominque, who of course excels in everything I've ever been insecure about. Still think I don't know it feels to be a second choice? To be in love with someone who cannot fully give their heart?"

I sniff as I force back a tear before looking at Erik. I can see his anger had disappeared and replaced by sadness and guilt.

"I apologize for my behavior. The events Meg mentioned are still very painful and I took my frustration about it out on you, something you do not deserve."

He looks at me shyly before awkwardly patting my back and I realize he's trying to comfort me. I give him sad but grateful smile. He sits down on a chair, signs of sadness even stronger on his face than before.

"I loved her. I loved Christine and a part of me will always love her. I just hoped she would have chosen for me instead of him and it still hurts."

After telling me his version of what happened a year ago, he takes a large gulp of the glass of wine I've offered him, before looking at me.

"Are you still befriended with him?"

"Yes, we still keep in touch. Even though he knows I feel more for him than he feels for me, we still manage to have a close to normal friendship. "

"But how do you cope with the pain? The frustration? The sadness? How are you able to move on?"

"By knowing that if he would have truly loved me back, he wouldn't have chosen for Dominique. He would have come to me instead. Even though there are times I wish I could have done it, I know that neither of us would be happy if I tried to force him to love me instead of her. I want to become the wife of a man who truly loves me instead of a second choice and in the end that's all I would be for him. Don't get me wrong, he does care about me, just not in the way I would have liked and there's nothing left for me to do than accept it, as difficult and painful as it is."

"You're right, Christine and I would never have been happy either. Perhaps it's the best for both of us that I do not see her anymore."

"Perhaps talking to someone who's going through the same thing, like me, would help you to heal your broken heart."

Erik gives me a sad smile.

"Thank you, I truly appreciate that mademoiselle."

"After all we've told each other, I think you can call me Celia now instead of mademoiselle Godain."


	9. Chapter 9

Bittersweet Chapter 9 Music of the misfits

Celia's PoV

By the time Erik and I drank our second glasses of wine we had made the deal that if I would leave his past and the events of the last two years in particular, alone and never remove his mask, he would respect my privacy too. He also forgave Meg, even though it probably helped her that Antoinette was her mother. By the time we had finished our third glass, we were actually talking to each other like long lost friends. I don't know if it was the alcohol or our shared pain over a lost love but perhaps a night filled with talk and liquor was something we both could use back then.

The months flew by and I was busier than ever. December, always one of the months that attracted the most guests because of the festive season, was coming closer, which meant that besides using a few quiet moments of the day to practice violin, I didn't have much time for myself. Even though I wouldn't have minded some time off, my work did distract me from my broken heart. Another upside was that even though they were busy too, I grew closer to both Antoinette and Meg.

The same thing went for monsieur l'opera ghost. Even though we had our quarrels, especially with Erik's short temper and our equal amount of stubbornness, we had grown surprisingly close after our argument a few months back. Perhaps the fact that I was strong enough to stand up to him but treating him with respect at the same time, something he still wasn't used to, was the reason that our heated discussions about running the opera never turned into massive fights. I could see the heat in his eyes when he was angry but he never showed me the anger Antoinette and Meg had warned me about.

We didn't talk much about our private lives and in a way, he was still a bit mysterious to me. However, I knew that I could trust him and if I needed a loyal friend he would be there for me.

I'm busy with writing a letter to my grandmother when I hear someone knocking. I decide to finish the letter later before walking to my mirror. Not too long ago I discovered that it was a two way mirror and a passage to Erik's lair. When I made him promise he wouldn't peak and ask permission first so we could avoid the awkward situation of him accidentally spotting me undressed, I allowed him to use the two way mirror as a door and he allowed me to visit him in his lair whenever I felt like it.

"Celia, my opera is finally finished!"

I smile at him. This is probably the happiest I've ever seen him.

"That's great, I can't wait to hear it."

Before I know it, I'm at the premiere of Erik's opera, wearing my newest dress I've bought with my friend Angelique the day before. I realize I'm actually nervous for him and I hope the crowd will love it. I've had the privilege of seeing the passion and love in his eyes whenever he's making music and I know he'll be heartbroken if the people do not love it. I'm relieved when the crowd gives the opera a standing ovation and quickly give a thumbs up while I look at box 5. Antoinette, who sits next to me, gives me a knowing smile before doing the same.

Erik's PoV

When everyone else has left for champagne to celebrate the success of my opera in the entrance hall, I decide to get some air and go to the roof of the opera building.

I still can't believe how much my life has changed for the better these past few months. I do not feel as lonely as I used to be now that I've became friends with Celia and re-strengthened my bond with Antoinette and even Meg and if I do not mistake the response to my opera, I'll officially be one of the composers of this opera building too, soon enough.

My thoughts are disturbed when I hear someone walking towards me. I turn around and see Celia standing there with two glasses of champagne in her hands. She looks absolutely beautiful. That's when I realize I'm staring at her. She raises an eyebrow but tactfully doesn't make any comments about it.

"Why aren't you at the party in the lobby?"

She shrugs.

"Because I wanted to congratulate you and offer you a certain job personally. On top of that, besides you and the Giry's there are only about 5 people here in the opera building with whom I'm befriended with versus a lot more people I do not like. Or wait, let me rephrase that, who do not like me."

I give her a surprised look.

"Why would they dislike you?"

"Come on Erik, do you really think I'm one of the popular girls in the Parisian high society? "

"Well, yes. After all, you weren't born with…" I pointed at my mask.

"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you Erik. Yes, I may not have the same problems with outer appearance as you have but that doesn't mean I'm not a misfit. Tell me Erik, do I strike you as a typical lady? Do I behave as I should behave according to the rules of my social and family background? Am I soft-spoken, obeying , never questioning things, do I never give my opinion only when asked, graceful, serene, never showing any passion about anything whether it's the arts or a suitor? Let's face it Erik, I do not fit in. I'm too loud, too artistic, too stubborn, to passionate, too clumsy, too honest, too much…I don't even know. To be honest with you, I'd rather spend time on a cold rooftop with someone who respects me for who I am than talking to people who give me fake smiles and even though they're nice to me, I know they call me 'weird' as soon as I'm out of their sight."

She looks sad as she sits down next to me. When I see her shivering I offer her my coat. She's right, I could have known that her ways were too unorthodox to be fully accepted in the upper class, or in most classes for that matter. She's too authentic, stubborn, ambitious to fit into the role of a lady of high society. Her personality traits would have probably been more accepted if she had been born a man instead of a woman.

Perhaps that's why she has treated me differently than most, I realize suddenly. Perhaps it's because she knows what it's like to not fit in!

"Just so you know, the people who treat you that way do not know what they're missing," I shyly compliment her. She smiles at me before raising her half empty glass.

"Thanks. Now let's make this evening worth remembering," she smirks at me as I follow her example and raise my glass as well, before making a toast.


	10. Chapter 10

Bittersweet Chapter 10 Killing loneliness

Ceila's PoV

I receive my invitation for the annual new years' Masquerade ball the second day of Christmas, at my parents mansion that's located just outside of Paris. I usually am excited for these kinds of balls but now, I feel my heart sink in my chest.

After all, the only man I'd truly love to dance with will already be going with someone else. Knowing that I have the choice to either stay home and sulk or go and be confronted with Stefano and _dear _Dominique who undoubtedly will show up , is enough to completely destroy my festive mood.

What am I suppose to do now?

I decide that going is my best option: sulking at home while missing a party that I used to love will not improving my mood and when I'm confronted with the last couple I want to see….Well, there'll be lots of opportunities to drown my pain in champagne.

But with whom will I be going? I cannot go alone, I'd feel even more miserable.

I stare out of my window when the roses that grow in the garden catch my attention. They are similar to the rose Erik gave me as a thank you after I first met him and my mind drifts back to the opera and it's most infamous inhabitant.

That's when I realize he has probably spend Christmas all alone and will probably be spending new years eve all by himself as well. I wonder if he even celebrates it.

When I picture him sitting in his lair staring sadly at a Christmas tree or even worse, watching others celebrate while no one, not even the Giry's will be spending time with him, my heart breaks. The idea of spending Christmas all alone is enough to depress me, so I don't even want to know how he must feel now.

The poor man truly doesn't deserve to spend the holidays all alone.

Suddenly an idea pops into my head. Could I, perhaps, attend the ball with Erik? After all, it's not like you have to attend the ball with a suitor, you can also go with a brother, other relative or even a friend.

Secondly, no matter how much it will hurt me to see Stefano with his beloved, I know I'll feel better knowing I'll at least have fun with a friend and on top of that, a friend who truly deserves to have a nice new years eve for a change, probably more than anyone else I know.

Third, if there's one person who knows how much it hurts to see the one you love with someone else it's him, so he'll understand my frustration.

Fourth, perhaps the sight of me with another man will make Stefano jealous. Plus, if Christine and monsieur le fop show up, maybe she´ll be jealous too….

I suddenly feel a whole lot better before deciding that the first thing I'm going to do when I'm back in Paris is pay a visit to the phantom's lair.


	11. Chapter 11

Bittersweet Chapter 11: Drunk on shadows

Celia's PoV

''You want to go to the masquerade ball? With me?'' Erik gives me an incredulous look. ''Celia, you do know how to keep things interesting around here.''

I smirk. ''What can I say? It´s a gift. Don't get me wrong, we go as friends since both of our hearts still belong to someone else but that doesn't mean we can enjoy ourselves for a change."

''And grab the chance to have a little reunion with De Chagney, who no doubt has been invited?'' I swallow nervously as I notice his anger that seems to be reserved for Raoul and I realize that I may have reminded my hot tempered friend of a painful period in his life. Not my most tactful move, I admit.

''I´ll be confronted with Stefano and Dominique as well Erik. Why not try to make them jealous? And if they don´t show up or don´t show any jealousy, we at least can spend time with a friend and enjoy fine food and drinks.'' I say softly, hoping my plan will calm him a bit.

As soon as I use the word ´friend´, Erik´s eyes soften.

''Do you really want me to accompany to a ball?''

''Of course, I wouldn´t have asked you if I didn´t.''

''You´re the first woman who ever asked me to accompany you to, well, anything, even as friends,'' he says softly, looking at the floor. ''Not that I had many friends to begin with, I can count them on one hand,'' he adds bitterly.

I softly push his chin up so that he looks at me. He flinches at my touch but I ignore it. ''Erik, I mean t it when I asked you to come with me to the ball and the offer still stands. You´re a nice guy and it saddens me that so little people have realized that so far.''

Erik´s PoV

I had just finished my first bottle of wine for the day when Ceila showed up. During the festive season, I usually live on alcohol. Of course, that's what most adults seem to do during those days but they do it to celebrate while I just do it to drown the pain. Plus, the more I drink, the faster it will be 2nd of January, when everybody is nursing their hang-overs and go back to the normal ways of life. It would probably be fun to annoy people like Carlotta while they're suffering from the results of drinking massive amounts of liquor if I wouldn't be in the same state myself.

Now I'm staring at Celia, trying not to let my mouth drop in surprise. Go to the masquerade? With Celia? I know she simply asks me to come with her as a friend but still…. At first I was a little suspicious because even though I think she's really nice, I do fear sometimes she's only friendly to me out of pity and not because she truly, well, likes me back. The suspicion leaves me as soon as I look into her eyes and see nothing but sincerity.

Plus, even though I always thought that if I'd go to the masquerade, I would accompany Christine instead of her, I have to admit I can see the logic in Celia's plan. It's been two years since I showed up at the ball as the red death , presenting my masterpiece Don Juan triumphant and have my heart broken, again, by discovering the engagement of Christine.

Even though it still hurts to think back of it, I don't want to repeat my new Years eve almost a year ago, when I felt almost just as bad as the night of Don Juan because I couldn't stop torturing myself with the most painful memories of my life, most of them involving _her and that boy._

That's when I realize they've probably been invited and the mere idea of seeing them again angers me to a point where I have trouble to force myself not to let it out on the person most nearby, which in this case would happen to be Celia.

She manages to calm me down before shocking me again. Doesn't this woman realize she has showed me more kindness in the few months that I know her than anyone else has shown me in my entire life?

I sigh and look at her, while pondering all that she has said to me tonight. I know that she's still in love with that friend of hers just like she knows my heart still belongs to Christine and even though we might just go to a ball together, we know that we aren't each other's first choices for a dance partner for the evening. I wonder how much her heartache has truly hurt her. Yes, she's too proud and too stubborn to admit but I've seen her crying once when she thinks she's all alone. As soon she had been close to falling asleep I've sung for her to calm her down, something I'd thought I'd never do again after the night of the fire.

However, she does have a point in saying that heartache doesn't have to be an excuse for not having any fun. And just because she isn't like Christine and I'm probably nothing like the man who has broken her heart, doesn't mean we can't enjoy each others company...

"So, are you coming with me to the masquerade or not?" Celia asks, pulling me back to the present and I've realized I still haven't answered her.

I make a bow. "It would be an honor mademoiselle," I announce, slightly overdramatic I might add. Oh well, at least it makes her laugh, it was the least I could do for making her wait abnormally long for an reaction to her invitation.


	12. Chapter 12

Bittersweet Chapter 12: Masquerade

Celia's PoV

It's the night of the masquerade and I'm currently in my room, searching for my shoes while wishing I wasn't that messy. Erik will accompany me to the ball in 5 minutes and I don't really want to test his patience, especially since I know men tend to complain about women taking too much time to get ready for a party. A minute later I finaly find my shoes and take a last look at myself in the mirror.

I realize I'm more nervous for my "date" with Erik than I thought. Even though I know we're just going as friends I secretly wonder if he thinks I look beautiful as soon as he sees me.

Who am I kidding, I look nothing like Christine. She has dark hair and dark eyes, while mine are a reddish-blonde and blue. She's tall and thin, where I'm short and curvy. The only thing in our appearance that similar is that we both have curly hair but in the end, I look even more like Meg than I look like Christine.

Besides, Erik looks nothing like the men I tend to be attracted to.

He and Stefano have just as much in common, looks wise, as Christine and I have.

I sigh. Good job Celia, now you're thinking of Stefano again.

My thoughts are disturbed when I hear someone knocking. I smile at Erik and let him enter my room.

"You look beautiful Celia," he compliments me, a bit shyly I might add and I smirk, feeling flattered.

"You look quite handsome too." While I compliment him back, I realize I actually mean it. Erik gives me a disbelieving look before looking down shyly as soon as he realizes I'm honest.

As soon as we enter the ballroom, I have to stop Erik from pulling his sword.

"Why is that damn fop dancing with another woman?" he hisses to no one in particular.

"Look carefully, I know those two look freakishly similar but that's not Raoul, it's his cousin. His hair is darker and shorter than Raoul's while he's also slightly taller than him. And for your information, the woman he's dancing with is his wife and even though he and his cousin look like each other, they hate each others' guts," I whisper back quickly, hoping to calm the murderous phantom down before we attract too much attention.

He looks at De Chagney again and I can feel him calming down.

"You're right, it isn't Raoul. And I suddenly like him." I roll my eyes before offering him a glass of champagne.

Erik's PoV

Five minutes later Celia suddenly grabs my hand and holds it so tightly it's almost painful. I'm about to comment on it when I see her staring at a couple who are approaching us. The look she gives them is quite similar to the one I've given to Christine whenever I saw her with Raoul and I realize that the guy must be one Celia is in love with. He has longish light blond hair, blue eyes and is slightly shorter than me and is, what women consider to be, handsome.

When I realize that and see the look Celia is giving him, I suddenly feel a mixture of hurt and anger.

Wait, am I jealous?

It must be the alcohol.

We have some small talk and even though I dislike him because I know how much he, unintentionally, has hurt Celia, I can tell he isn't a bad man. Or at least, he isn't a fop.

When we walk away to get another drink, I notice he is keeping an eye on her and I suddenly wonder what _exactly _has been going on between them. I quickly push the thought away, he's probably just protective of her and behaves like a brother would if he would see her with a man he's never met before.


	13. Chapter 13

Bittersweet Chapter 13 First and second impressions

Celia's PoV

Thankfully, after those two painful moments, the night turns out for the better. I'm having a good time and even though I don't think he'll ever be truly comfortable in large crowds, I can tell Erik is actually enjoying himself too. When he leaves my side to grab us something to drink, I bump into Meg.

"Who are you dancing with? I don't think I've ever seen him before. Do you know what he looks like underneath his mask?" she asks curiously.

I ponder a moment whether I should tell her the truth. I know Erik and I will both be in trouble if someone (excluding Antoinette and perhaps Meg) finds out that the O.G. and I collaborate. But then again, even though she and Erik never had a real conversation, she knows he isn't as evil as he appears to be. I decide to trust her.

"Meg, you have seen him before in this very opera."

"I have? Is he handsome?"

"Er….Meg, let me put it this way, I do not know what he looks like underneath his mask, or at least partially. I've never seen his entire face because he feels he has a reason to hide it from the world."

Meg nearly chokes in her drink.

"Is your escort really who I think he is? Celia, are you sure this is a good idea, I mean, after what happened with Christine? How much do you even know about him?"

"I'm not Christine, Meg. Erik and I are just friends, that's all."

I can't help but to ponder about Meg's third question, though. What do I know about Erik? Hardly anything.. ..

The only time he told me something about himself was during the only big argument we ever had and all he did was admitting his love for Christine and his heartbreak when she chose for Raoul instead and most, if not all of that, was information Meg, Antoinette and the managers already have given me, only told from his perspective now.

Then again, he wasn't an ordinary man. Lord knows what he has been trough, it's logical that he has trouble trusting people, certainly after what happened between him and Christine. It probably took him years to even trust her, so I can't expect him to tell me his complete life story after a month or 6. Plus, the music he has played for me, beautiful but haunting, passionate but sad has probably told me more about him than he would ever tell me in a conversation.

I realize that although we may not have a friendship in the traditional sense of the word, Erik has become surprisingly dear to me. Except for Meg and Antoinette, he's the only one I can call a true friend within the walls of the opera building and I know he would not hurt me.

"Look, I know that, even though you speak more kindly of him than anyone else, excluding your mother and I, you're wary because of what happened between him and Christine and I don't blame you for that.

On the other hand, I'd like to point out that he's the only one of my male colleagues who has truly taken me seriously as a patron and even treated me as an equal ever since I've started to work here and that's something I will not forget. He has became my friend for a reason, Meg."

She nods before looking around. "Where is he, by the way?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Getting me and him some drinks, why?"

"Because I want to meet him. Christine did care for him, once upon a time, and now that I've heard stories about the gentle side of the O.G. from both you and my mother, I can't help to be curious and see if I could give him a chance. "

"Really?"

"In the end, the only people who actually know him do not judge him so harshly as the ones who do not. As for his crimes, he did release Raoul and Christine, Piangi was injured but survived and I don't think the phantom meant to harm him and even though it was wrong what he did to Buquet, Buquet wasn't a good man and I do believe some of the ballet rats wouldn't have had their virtue intact anymore if Erik hadn't killed him. However, because of those crime, it's hard for me to not be wary and warn you. Then again, like I said, I've never met him and the only ones who do, speak kindly of him. Except for Raoul of course."

She walks towards him and I smile, being reminded once again why Meg and I became immediate friends the first moment we met.

Erik's PoV

This evening is one of the rare moments I, almost, feel like a normal man. Celia has been nothing but charming and kind to me and even Meg was friendly to me. I could tell she still doesn't really know what to think of me but the fact that she has done the effort to meet me and judge for herself instead of blindly believing all the rumors is something I truly appreciate.

Making my way to the crowd, I search for Celia with two glasses of champagne. I spot her talking to Stefano and for the second time that evening, I realize I feel a pang of jealousy. What's the matter with me? It's probably because no one asked me to accompany them to a social gathering before. I notice the sadness in her eyes when she has spotted Dominique in the crowd and I wonder how many times I must have had that look in my eyes myself. Even though Stefano does seem like an intelligent man, he's a fool for not loving a woman as beautiful as Celia.

I shake my head to remove that last thought before looking down at the glasses in my hand. Maybe I should slow down on the champagne. After all, it is a well-known aphrodisiac and despite of it all, I'm still a man and it's only natural for me to appreciate the sight of a good-looking woman even when I'm sober, let alone after three glasses of the alcoholic beverage.

"I seems the dress I told Celia to wear has worked it's magic on you, the whole room can see you stare at her."

My thoughts are disturbed by a dark haired woman who gives me a wink as she walks by and I glare at her, my blush only partially hidden by my mask. Unfortunately, Celia has heard her comment and smirks .

"Don't worry, Baronne Victoria Sinclair may be bold but she doesn't mean to offend. She's normally only like this when with friends, like me but after a few drinks she tends to forget that."

"She's a baroness?"

Celia smiles at my surprised face before nodding.

"You'll get used to it. Dance?"

She offers me her hand and soon we swirl around in the ballroom again.


	14. Chapter 14

Bittersweet Chapter 14: Giving up hope

Celia's PoV

"So, tell us all about the ball Masque! How was it?"

Rosalinde and Angelique look up expectantly at me. Both of my friends had wanted to go but couldn't, so it was up to me and Victoria to tell all about it over a glass of wine from Berenger's, Rosalinde's husband, beloved wine cellar.

Victoria gives me a wink. "Yes, tell us all about the mysterious man you danced with. Is he the first suitor you haven't turned down?" I glare at her.

"You know it's not my fault the few men who are willing to be my suitor are fools who want to push me into a life I'm not willing to have. Besides, the man I danced with isn't a suitor."

My three friends laugh. "We know you have bad luck with suitors. We just want you to be happy instead of broken-hearted," Angelique points out. I sigh.

"Besides, who knows who you'll meet next week…" She tries to cheer me up. I sigh again.

Of course, the winter ball, how could I forget?

"You're going to another ball? You don't look to excited. With who are you going, if I may enquire?" Two hours later I'm a few feet underneath the opera house and I notice Erik features darken after his last question. Is he feeling protective of me? I decide to shrug it off.

"Believe me, I'm not excited. If it wasn't for my friends Angelique, Victorine, Rosalind and her husband Berenger being there, a ball being a perfect opportunity to look for new patrons for the opera house and having to surrender to social rules to do so, I wouldn't go. My idea of fun is not being bothered by fops who have the desire to turn me into someone I'm not, by trying to court me."

Erik raises an eyebrow and I can tell he's annoyed.

"Some people would be happy if they could court someone."

"Erik, let me put it this way: the idea of being courted by one of those men would give me the same kind of emotions as you would have if someone told you to court Carlotta."

His annoyed look turns into one of disgust.

"Never mention the words 'Carlotta' and 'courting' in one sentence ever again."

The down side of feeling like your time flies because you're having so much fun, is that the days seem to fly by and the day of the one event you dread arrives quicker than you would like.

The moment I arrive at the ball with Victoria, Angelique, Berenger and Rosalinde, I'm reminded of why I don't really like these balls: because I feel out of place, I'm the odd one out. Don't get me wrong, everyone is nice to me but I know they'll say the most vicious things behind my back. They always do.

I suddenly wonder: if I'm considered a freak, for loving music, having a job and saying no to men I don't like even though they have a higher title, how would they treat Erik?

Thinking of Erik's situation makes me realize I'm whining. I have a good life, nice friends, even the job I thought I could never have, a loving family and even though I decided to give up the hope of Stefano ever choosing me over Dominique, I don't think I really should complain.

After dancing with the, hopefully, future patron of my beloved opera house, I decide to look for a lavatory and leave the ball room. Just when I think I've taken the wrong turn, I hear voices. I approach the sound and when I realize it's very familiar arguing couple, I've already heard enough.

"_Raoul, I want to go back to the opera house! It's been my home for years and I want to see Meg and maman Giry again!"_

"_And be reunited with that monster! No Christine, I cannot let you take that risk!"_

"_Oh alright Raoul, I'll just continue to write them."_

After they had walked away, I realize it's time to continue the search to a place to relieve myself, my head filled with a million thoughts.

How could Christine not stand up for herself for something that's so important to her? I can understand why Raoul reacted the way he did, especially since Erik will probably be the only competition he'll ever have for Christine's love but stopping Christine from returning to a place that used to be her home is not a good thing to do either, in my opinion.

Then again, if Christine didn't stand up for her needs on something that means so much to her, I doubt she ever stands up for anyone or anything. Maybe I'm just a stubborn woman, but if I were her, I wouldn't have given up that easily. If I were her, the entire love triangle between Raoul, Erik and Christine wouldn't have gotten out of hand, too.

On the other hand, it's probably a good thing Christine is so submissive, because I honestly don't know how Erik would react if he saw her again and I doubt I want to know either. I can't help but to try to imagine how things between him and her would have went if she had decided to stay with him instead. If she cowers away and does everything Raoul says, how submissive would she be now had Erik been her husband?

There's only one thing I can conclude: their marriage would never have worked, not until Christine had grown a backbone to be able to stand up to a man like Erik. I know he still isn't over her and I realize it's time that someone tells him Christine and he simply weren't meant to be, or else she would have returned to the opera house by now.

I know how much it hurts to give up hope, considering I've only given up on the hope of ever becoming Stefano's wife a few days ago. However I know I will not forgive myself if I allow Erik to let him continue to hold on to an illusion.


	15. Chapter 15

Bittersweet Chapter 15: The ugly truth

Celia's PoV

Telling Erik, a man legendary for his temper, that it's time to get over the woman he considers the love of his life, isn't something you do without preparation. So, I ask for the advice of the only person I could ask: Antoinette Giry. Knowing Erik's uncanny hearing ability, I invited her for lunch in a restaurant instead of just striking up a conversation inside the opera populaire.

" I've heard Christine wants to go back to the opera house ," I decide to not beat around the bush.

Antoinette nods. "I know, but Raoul doesn't want her to return."

I decide not to tell her how easily Christine submits to that wish. After all, Antoinette knows her better than I do, perhaps she already has realized that the chance is small she'll return to her former home because it would mean going against her husbands' wish and it might be painful to her that she hasn't seen the woman who's like a daughter to her for so long. I can't help but wondering how a woman who's raised by and grown up with such strong women as Antoinette and Meg, managed to remain so naïve and easy to influence as Christine, though.

"Anyway, I know Erik still loves her. It's just….when you have the choice between a broken heart and holding on to foolish hope, sometimes, the broken heart is the lesser of two evils. I know from my own personal experience how hope can make you hold on to painful illusions because that hope incapacitates you from admitting to yourself that it's better to move on. And if you're not able to realize this yourself, someone has to help you. I can't let Erik continue to torture himself with what if's anymore, Antoinette."

She raises her eyebrow.

"You want to tell Erik, also known as the opera ghost, that he, of all people, should forget about Christine?"

"I know." I groan.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Let's face it, someone has to tell him."

"You are aware you're going to ruin whatever bond you have with him, right? And don't be surprised if the O.G. makes a reappearance again. Plus, there's a chance he'll hurt you. Look, I know how stubborn you are and once you have an idea in your head no one is able to stop you but…"

"I don't think he'll hurt me. So far he hasn't hurt a woman, except for Christine when she ripped off his mask for entire France perhaps but I don't think he'll stoop that low. Plus, it's another reason for the gendarmes to start searching for him and considering I know the way to his lair, it would be a bad idea for him to get on my bad side. Plus, the opera ghost only makes an appearance when his ideas aren't put to use and since I'll still be following them because they're actually good, he has no right to complain. Besides, I've already seen the man behind the O.G. so his manipulations won't work with me. And the bond I have with Erik? Well, what kind of a friend would I be if I continue to let him hurt himself?"

She sighs. "You're right, someone should tell him, someone he respects and who hasn't been involved with the whole drama last year and it seems you're the only one who fits those qualifications. I would have told Erik it's time to move on myself but since I've already interfered then by telling Raoul the way to Erik's lair, I don't think he'll listen to me anymore.

You however, are neutral and one of the few people who can reason with him and make him see reason too. So, tell him as gently as possible that Christine will not return to the opera house, be prepared to face his anger and hopefully he'll realize one day you have told him this for his own good."

When I enter Erik's lair that afternoon, I notice he's in a bad mood. As soon as I open my mouth to greet him, he interrupts me.

"Is it true that the vicomptesse wants to return to the opera? I heard one of the other patrons mention it." I swallow nervously, this really isn't how I wanted to start this very painful conversation.

"Erik, you're not going to like what I have to say, so maybe you should sit down and please hear me out before you start to shout."

He gives me a glare but sits down on his chair anyway.

"Look, I know you still hope that Christine realizes she has chosen the wrong guy when she left with the vicomte and will return the opera and your lair to beg you for forgiveness, but I don't think that will happen. Last week at the ball, I overheard them arguing and Christine did say she wanted to come back here but after her husband, unsurprisingly enough, replied that he didn't exactly liked that, she just shrugged and submitted to her husband's wish. She didn't even make the effort to stand up to for her need to return to the opera house! Erik, if she doesn't even do that so she can be back in the place she grew up in and see Antoinette and Meg again, who are like a mother and a sister to her, the chance of her ever coming back to your lair are less than zero."

"Do you mean Raoul is keeping her away from my opera house?" Erik nearly yells and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I can't say I'm surprised he tries to blame Raoul, though.

"Of course he doesn't like it, you're the only competition he ever has known in his entire life. But in the end, he's not stopping her, Christine is stopping herself. If she hasn't got the emotional strength to stand to a milksop of a boy like Raoul, for something that she truly wants, I don't think she's capable of standing up for any of her needs, to anyone. Erik, maybe you should ask yourself this: if Christine is so easily intimidated she submits and obeys every wish of Raoul, someone even I can intimidate, how would things have turned out had you, a very masculine and dominant man, been her husband? Yes, she would definitely do anything you say, you'd always get what you want and there would never be any fights. However, there would also be no heat, no fire….You, the most passionate, all-or-nothing kind of man I know, would have had a passionless marriage. Is that the kind of marriage you would want? You may be a Don Juan Erik, but Christine isn't an Aminta. She just played that role because Raoul told her to do so."

I nervously stare at Erik. He holds his hands in fists and is obviously biting back anger. I do not dare to look in his eyes knowing I'd be dead now if looks could kill.

"Leave." It sounds almost like a growl.

"Leave now and never come back if you value your life."

I quickly run to the boat and row as fast as I can. The last thing I notice is the dark, fast melody Erik is pounding on the keys of the organ.


	16. Chapter 16

Bittersweet chapter 16: Set you free

Erik's PoV

I pace around in my lair, feeling like a caged animal. What am I going to do? I honestly don't know. It's been a month since I last spoke to Celia and after what she had dared to tell me I didn't want to see her again.

But now, another problem had arisen.

Before Celia and I had our fight, we used to meet every month to have a business meeting. As much as it pleased me to see that, despite our argument, Celia carried out all the plans we had made in regarding the opera, I was now faced with the fact that she needed new directions. However, I didn't know how to give them to her.

I quickly disposed the idea of giving the Opera Ghost a comeback. After all, like Antoinette, I never had been able to intimidate Celia. Besides, I only used my alter ego when the managers and patrons didn't follow my directions and as much as I didn't like her at the moment, she still did listen to my plans. Plus, she had seen too much of me already and she knew the way to my lair.

Of course, I could always just send notes.

However, the perfectionist in me didn't like the idea. I had liked it to tell my exact plans, ideas and instructions, to be able to include every single detail I could think of. To go back to little notes with less thorough and less detailed demands felt like a degradation. On top of that, I secretly had enjoyed discussing the managing of the opera house with someone who actually knew what she was talking about when it came down to managing it but who also was a very talented musician as well.

So now my pride and my desire to run the opera house as good as possible were fighting a battle within me.

As if that wasn't irritating enough, another big question continues to haunt me as well: why did she do it? It couldn't be because she was jealous of Christine, she already had a title, she and Christine weren't each other competition in any way and while Christine was now kept away as far as possible from the opera by that fool of a vicompte, Celia had battled society's unwritten laws to become a patron and spend as much time in the opera house as possible. It couldn't be because she was attracted to the vicompte either because a blind man could see her heart still belonged to Stefano D'Evanchy. So, if it wasn't envy of any kind, what does she gain by talking so lowly of Christine? As far as I could see, she didn't gain anything by her action. In fact, quite the opposite since I was now angry with her.

Than a thought downed on me, so shocking that it surprised me.

What if Celia hadn't said the things she said because of some hidden agenda or underlying motive but simply because those were the things she had observed and thought I needed to know? What if it never had been her intention to badmouth Christine but just to point out the flaws I hadn't been able to see because I was still blinded by my love for her?

"_**But in the end, he's not stopping her, Christine is stopping herself. If she hasn't got the emotional strength to stand to a milksop of a boy like Raoul, for something that she truly wants, I don't think she's capable of standing up for any of her needs, to anyone. Erik, maybe you should ask yourself this: if Christine is so easily intimidated she submits and obeys every wish of Raoul, someone even I can intimidate, how would things have turned out had you, a very masculine and dominant man, been her husband?"**_

It wasn't difficult to recall those words for I had pondered them ever since that day. Was Christine emotionally weak and easily intimidated?

"_**She would definitely do anything you say, you'd always get what you want and there would never be any fights. However, there would also be no heat, no fire….You, the most passionate, all-or-nothing kind of man I know, would have had a passionless marriage. Is that the kind of marriage you would want? You may be a Don Juan Erik, but Christine isn't an Aminta. She just played that role because Raoul told her to do so."**_

Had I been seeing things in Christine that were never there?

I decide to pay Celia a visit. I deserve some answers.

Ceila´s PoV

Somehow I can sense Erik before I see he´s here. When he wants to, he can be surprisingly invisible for such a tall, intimidating-looking man.

"Good evening Erik, how may I help you?

"I need answers."

"Ask away."

"Why did you do it?"

"I just observed both of your behaviors, drew my own conclusions and thought you had a right to know them. So no, there are no secret agenda's and underlying motives for me to gain anything.

"Why do you think I thought you'd have some underlying motive when you told me it was time to "forget" the love of my life?"

"Isn't that what you thought, then?"

"Why did you talk so lowly of Christine? Whether it was your intention or not, you did do it."

Interesting how he doesn't answer my question, I think by myself.

"I didn't talk lowly of Christine. Why would I? I don't like, nor dislike her. I just pointed out her negative side. Christine is a human woman, Erik, not an angel, as much as you may still believe that and she has flaws like anyone else. I just reminded you of her less charming character traits in the hope that one day you stop pining away for her down in your lair. It's an act of compassion and mercy, that's all."

"Compassion? Mercy? Really."

I decide to temporarily ignore the sarcasm.

"As unique as your situation may be Erik, you're not the only one in this world who knows what it's like to love someone who chooses another, remember?"

I grimly point at my Daguerre type picture of Stefano and me.

"It took me one and a half years to admit to myself that I would never even be Stefano's mistress, let alone his wife. And yes, as much as it saddens me to announce, I'm pathetic enough that, for him, I would degrade myself to the level of being a mistress. And even though I've given up the hope of ever meaning more to him than a friend, I still have relapses sometimes, like I'm a recovering opium addict.

I wouldn't wish this kind of pain, this useless longing, to someone I loathe, let alone someone I actually like and respect, like you. That's why I decided to give you a wakeup call, so to speak."

I notice Erik was a little sidetracked after those last few sentences.

"Do you…do you actually like me? Respect me?" His voice is soft.

I sigh and take his hands in mine, wondering once again what kind of life he had known to be so shocked at the idea that someone might care about him. He flinches at my touch but I ignore it.

"Yes Erik, I like you and I care about you. Why did you think I took the risk of telling you, of all people, that Christine probably won't come back? Plus, why did you think I went through the nerve wrecking act of asking you to accompany me to the masquerade? Normally a man is supposed to do that, you know."

My lame attempt at a joke seems to lift the tense atmosphere a little.

Erik sits down and looks at me.

"Do you really think Christine is…isn't very emotionally strong?"

"Erik, let me put it this way: you think I'm a strong-minded woman, right?"

"Yes."

"Try to imagine it was me you fell in love with instead of Christine. Do you really think I would have believed, right until I was old enough to marry, that an angel of music was teaching me to sing? Do you really think I never had asked at least a few questions?

Do you really think I would have jumped in the arms of a so-called friend I hadn't spoken to in years? After all, if he truly had been a good friend, he would have stayed in touch with me and be there for me when I needed him the most. So he mustn't have been that good of a friend.

Do you really think I would have ripped off your mask without wondering why you wear one in the first place? Without realizing it might be a delicate subject for you?

Do you really think I would so easily forget your loyalty the moment I 'd discover you weren't as perfect as I had assumed?

Do you really think I'd be foolish enough to confess my love to another man in your opera house?

Do you really think that when two men are fighting over me and I seem to care about both of them, I never would have stepped in and say: "If you truly love me, give me some time alone to make up my mind so that I can make a proper decision and if you're not willing to do that, than you obviously don't truly care for me and I'll choose someone else?

Do you really think I'd rip your mask off in front of an audience?

So, do you still doubt if Christine is strong-minded and spirited or not?"


	17. Chapter 17

Bittersweet Chapter 17: Exorcism

Celia's PoV

After those words he stares at me with the coldest look I've ever seen and suddenly I realize why people might fear him. The man currently standing in front of me, reminding me very much of a provoked predator right now, isn't Erik, it's the phantom.

I know he never leaves his Punjab lasso out of his sight and I notice his hand is starting to drift towards the dangerous piece of rope. I swallow nervously and my first reaction is to take a step back and flee but when I realize such an action would only provoke him even more, I decide to stand my ground and look into his eyes while holding my breath.

Suddenly his eyes soften and his shoulders sag and suddenly he doesn't look like the intimidating opera ghost, he looks like a tired old man. My eyes soften too and I realize my last words had been too harsh. After all, if he had spoken to me this way about Stefano, I probably wouldn't have been thrilled either.

He turns away from with a sigh and sits down. I decide to walk towards him and carefully put my hand on his shoulder.

"Just last year I would have strangled you if you had dared to say those things about _…her _ then. I've never harmed a woman before so perhaps your gender would have saved you but on the other hand, I would be so sure."

His voice was thick with emotion.

"Is there anything else that stopped you from even grabbing the lasso now, other than my gender?" I try to keep my voice as steady and monotone as possible.

"The last bit of my respect that you still have and…." He stops, unable to continue and I know why: admitting that it was his Christine who betrayed him by ripping off his mask during what was supposed to be his big triumph, is still too difficult for him.

I squeeze his shoulder softly, letting him know I understand. I sit down next to him. He has hidden his face in his hands. I decide not to comment on it, knowing it would only make the situation too uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry Erik, I shouldn't have been so bold." I sigh.

"Look, I know I don't know Christine as well as you but what I do know, is that she has seen too little of the world whereas you have seen too much. _He _is just as blissfully naïve of how cruel the world can be and can provide her an Utopian little world where everything is simple and everyone is nice whereas you have lost the illusion that such a place really can exist.

That does not mean she never loved you. In fact, to be honest, I do not think her true feelings really influenced her decision that painful night. She just choose for what she knew Erik, she just made the safe choice. Whether she loves you less than him, just as much or perhaps even more than him, isn't what motivated her decision.

Like I said, I do not know Christine very well and my whole theory might be incorrect but I do know her fop very well and he know he always was intimidated by anyone who doesn't behave or think the way he feels people should think and behave.

His world, although imaginary and able to exist by the mere fact that too little people have said no to him in his life, is safe, predictable and in way much very similar to the fantasy world her father created for her when she was a little girl, or at least, according to Meg. Christine has chosen for a life, not a man and one can live a sheltered life. However, such life is very fragile and the illusion they've created for themselves can easily be disturbed."

He looks up and hope is shining in his eyes. I recognize that look very easily, after all, I used to have that same look in my eyes when I still had the illusion Stefano would break up with Dominique and declare his undying love for me. The sight breaks my heart.

"So, you mean she might still love me, she just made the safe choice and when she realizes that she will come back?"

He suddenly reminds me of a child who begs me to tell me that, despite what the older kids told him, the tooth fairy actually does exist and I feel horrible as I shake my head.

"Will she ever realize it Erik? You could wait for her forever but what if she'll never…" I pause.

"How much does this knowledge truly change a thing? Yes, she could love you more than him but unless she returns, which I doubt, considering visiting the Giry's would be a perfect excuse for her to return to the opera house and she doesn't even do that, this whole situation doesn't change. You can hold on forever to the chance that Christine might love you more but in the end, you're still broken hearted unless she suddenly decides to return."

His look of hope changes into one of frustration, disappointment, hurt and anger.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW? ! YOU SAID YOURSELF YOU DON'T KNOW HER WELLL!" he roars.

"Yes, I do not know her well. However, I do know what it's like to struggle with unreturned romantic feelings," I say calmly.

"SHE WAS MY ONLY HOPE!"

"I once believed Stefano was my only hope too and it will only be a matter of time before I have to stand in a church and watch him marry another."

"You will find someone else. I will not."

"The only men I've met so far who seem to appreciate me as I am and don't try to change me are Berenger, the husband of my friend Rosalind, Stefano and the man I'm currently looking at and who's still in love with a certain Christine . It's a miracle in itself that I'm actually allowed to choose whom I will marry but considering I haven't met many men who are willing to accept a stubborn woman with a passion for music society doesn't allow her to have, there's quite a big chance I won't be a patron for very long Erik Destler!"

" After all, society will accept an unmarried woman of twenty one as a patron but an unmarried one of twenty five? Of course not! So unless I find a man, other than Stefano, who will accept and god forbid, love me as I am, I will not be accepted as a patron for much longer and the irony of it all is that, even if I would marry as soon as this month, there's a chance my husband will forbid me to be a patron anyway."

" Yes, I know I sound like a spoiled brat with everything I have yet whine about things I don't have, compared to you. However, please know that you're not the only one who has felt he lost his one and only chance at true love."

Erik looks so taken aback at my rant he forgets to be angry. I feel my anger cool down as I look at him.

He manages to compose himself before shaking my hand, offering a truce. I accept it.

"So, shall we talk Opera business?"

I give a small smile.

"I'd like that."


	18. Chapter 18

Celia's PoV

After Erik and I make plans for the upcoming opera season and I go back 'above ground', I bump into Meg.

"Hello Celia, I was just looking for you! Where were you, my friend?"

"At Erik's," I mumble.

"Although I'm not really sure how he feels now about the fact that I don't think Christine was made for him, we're friends again.

"That's good. You wouldn't want an angry Erik," Meg points out.

"True. Although I must admit, I did miss him in the weeks we weren't on speaking terms."

"You truly care about him, don't you?"

"I love how surprised you sound."

Meg blushes. "I apologize, that was rude of me. It's just..."

She hesitates and I raise my eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Don't get me wrong, when I met him he was very kind and well-mannered, I know he isn't as terrifying as people make him to be and Joseph Buquet should never even been hired as a stage hand because all he did was drink and bother every female in the building but Piangi…"

"You're wondering why I'm not intimidated by and can look past his crimes?"

She nods.

"Well, let's just say, for arguments sake, the impossible happens and he gets caught. What would happen? He would be jailed, without his mask no doubt, be treated more cruelly than any other prisoner no matter their crimes because of his face and be hung."

Meg looks uneasy. "That probably would happen, yes."

"Meg, how much do you know about his life? Has your mother ever told you how she met Erik the first time?"

"She told me once she saw him at a freak show. He was called the 'devils' child'. He must have been no older than ten at the time."

"Indeed. So, he's already _been_ imprisoned, in a cage like an animal, no less. On top of that, his biggest insecurity was bared as a subject of mockery, cruel jokes and bullying for the entire world. This all happened before he ever committed a crime and was just an innocent child who wanted to play. So, he has already spend his time in jail and therefore fulfilled that part of payment for his crimes.

As for his execution: if you were treated in a way one would not even treat a dog, wouldn't you have protested? How do you think they made sure everyone who was exploited remained obedient? I'm sure that Erik's face isn't the only part of his body that's scarred. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Antoinette saved his life that fateful night. After all, a child can only take so much abuse before his body breaks and that would be a far more painful death than a noose. Remember, once again, he went through all of this before he ever did something wrong.

On top of that, he's been living all alone underneath this opera house for years, except from the occasional visit from your mother and, later, Christine and he also had to watch how the woman he loved chose another man who is the exact opposite of him. So, despite the fact that he's still alive, he's suffered enough to deserve a death row pardon.

Do I think the life he has lead so far justifies his crimes? I don't know. I don't even know if I can be the judge of that.

Do I think he has paid for his mistakes? Yes. And considered I think he has fulfilled his payment, according to my humble opinion, he can start over and therefore I will not hold his old crimes against him as long as he doesn't commit any new ones. And since the vicompte is still alive as we speak, I do believe he has learned from his faults."

Erik's PoV

Unbeknownst to Celia, I was watching her and Meg in the rafters. She missed me? Me? I nearly fall from surprise and shock but fortunately I manage to safe myself. No one has ever claimed to miss me. Not Antoinette, not Nadir whom I haven't seen in years, not even Christine….

Truth be told, I had missed Celia too. I may have been angry at her and still don't know what to think about her theory that Christine and I would never be truly able to live happily ever after if it wasn't for that damn fop interfering but I did enjoy her company. She's both a competent musician and a competent manager, has a love for the arts that rivals mine, is intelligent and has a sense of humor.

I shake my head to remove the thought. When have I ever thought so positive about another human being besides Christine? I loathe mankind for what they did to me. I force my attention back to Celia's and Meg's conversation, only to be shocked again. She thinks I deserve a second chance? A chance to start over? Dare I say it, redemption?

Celia's officially the strangest woman I've ever met. Not that I met many, but still…

Celia's PoV

A week later the auditions for the new soprano's are held. Christine was gone and one of my first actions of a patron was to finally convince Andre and Firmin that we needed to lose the squeaking parakeet known as Carlotta. As glad as I am she finally left, she did leave an empty spot that needed to be filled very soon. I'm sitting front row next to Antoinette to judge the nervous contestants. Andre and Firmin glance nervously to box 5, no doubt wondering if the opera ghost is present. After all, ever since I became a patron, they haven't received any notes from him and it's obvious they wonder if he's still alive. Antoinette and I look at each other when we notice how nervous the managers are and roll our eyes. Stupid fools, they don't know anything about music anyway.

The first contestant reminds of Carlotta with her tendency to use vibrato in almost every sentence she sings and I shake my head. The second one is decent but could use some help with her technique, the third one is very good and the fourth horrible. Fortunately we have a break after the fourth leaves the stage. When I discuss the candidates with Antoinette, someone taps me on my shoulder and my heart skips a beat when I look into the smiling eyes of Stefano.

"Stefano, what are you doing here?"

"Visiting you of course, Cece," he teases me. He knows he's the only one who can call me the hated nickname without getting a death glare.

"Did you watched the auditions? What do you think so far?" I ask him after I've introduced him to Antoinette.

"The third woman is the best so far," he agrees with me. That's when he notices the nervous looks of the managers.

"What's their problem? Are they still afraid of the opera ghost?" he asks bluntly.

"They are." Somehow I don't think it's wise to discuss to O.G.

"Did he cause trouble again?"

I shake my head.

"Not a single note or even remotely strange event ever since the opera house has been reopened."

"Maybe he's gone?"

I decide to shrug.

"You would like the ghost's taste in music, though," I can't resist to say. Erik may be annoyed that I talk about him to Stefano but at least my comments are either neutral or positive.

"Why would I?" Both Stefano and Antoinette raise an eyebrow, the first one because of the surprising comment and the second one no doubt about the conversational topic.

"Because his hatred of Carlotta is quite legendary."

"I like him already," Stefano laughs.

I'm not surprised. If I know two men who absolutely hate the hysterical ex-diva, it's Erik and Stefano. Suddenly I wonder what would happen if the two men ever met each other.

The break is over and the auditions start again. If it wasn't for Stefano, Antoinette and me discussing the singers, I would have a trouble with my concentration with Stefano sitting next to me. We may be normal 'friends" now but I know it's still difficult for me to start seeing him as one instead of a potential suitor.

Erik's PoV

During the entire break I'm busy glaring at Celia and D'Evanchy. She needs all her attention to choose a decent soprano, not spend it on a man!

I tell myself that her lack of attention is the only reason I'm annoyed but when I hear the two of them laugh, I realize I'm also jealous. What I would give to sit next to Celia and Antoinette and laugh with them, like Stefano, instead of hiding in the shadows! Even my beloved box feels lonely now. I suddenly feel angry at myself too for being annoyed at Celia because of her lack of attention while I'm not focusing on the stage either.

Despite the fact that there's an obvious winner between the contestants, I'm still in a sour mood after the auditions. Celia and I have agreed to meet up to discuss the singers but she's late.

"Are you finished with focusing on that man instead of our new future soprano?"

"I paid attention to the singers. Besides, if all your attention was focused on the stage, how come you also spend time watching me and Stefano?" she shoots back and I shut up, knowing she has a point.

"Which one did you like the most?"

Celia's PoV

Fortunately the decision to install soprano number 3, Charlotte Dubois, as the new diva has been easily made. Erik had been grumpier than usual but fortunately his mood hadn't affected his exquisite taste in music. I wonder what his problem is. Oh well, with the life he has lived, it could be anything.

That evening I have dinner with Victoria and Angelique. As much as I love the opera house, I can use some relaxation and talk with two of my oldest friends. Victoria, has found a new suitor again and considering her love-affairs never last long, Angelique and I roll our eyes. The society always has named Victoria shameless and inappropriate but to me and my friends her behavior has always been more amusing than anything else.

"But you still haven't told us who that charming man you've danced with at the opera ball masque is!" Victoria says and I stop myself from groaning.

My friends know how much it hurts me that Stefano will be married to Dominique soon and therefore have made it their mission to find a suitor for me before I have to watch them walking down the aisle. Unfortunately, Victoria has convinced Angelique, Rosalinde, who had another appointment tonight, and even Angelique's husband Berenger that the mysterious man I showed up with at the masque, is my secret new lover. I can't possibly tell them the truth, now can I?

"That charming man is a friend of mine who, by the way, is just as busy with healing his broken heart as I am, for similar reasons," I settle for a limited version of the truth.

Angelique grins. "Perhaps you can cry on each other's shoulders."

I roll my eyes.

A little later the excuse themselves to go to the bathroom and to pass the time, I try to figure out which desert I'll order.

Suddenly someone sits down in the seat next to me and it isn't one of my friends.

"Good evening Celia. I'm sorry to interfere with your evening but can I ask you some questions?"

I sigh, knowing how annoyingly stubborn my current company is.

"Ask away, Raoul."


	19. Chapter 19

Bittersweet Chapter 19: Scars

Celia's PoV

Me and my family have known the De Chagney's for years. Their mansion is located quite close to my elderly home, we have the same social status and I and Raoul de Chagney grew up together.

However, that does not mean we're incredibly fond of each other. When we meet , we greet each other but our bond will never be deeper than that. To be honest, I think he's a bit of a pompous fool who's heard too often how he's such a gentleman, whereas he thinks I'm a very strange woman, since I don't behave like your average upper class Parisian. That boy is a bit too wrapped up in tradition, to not be a bit weary of me. Like many others.

I wonder how he would react if I told him I just had a meeting with his wife's ex-angel of music.

"How can I help you, Raoul?"

He looks nervous.

"How do you like being a patron so far, Celia?"

"I absolutely love it." I can't help but to smile. "Why?"

"I was curious."

He hesitates again.

"Come on Raoul, you've known me longer than you've known your wife and you know I don't like beating around the bush. What's the matter?"

"Has anything strange happened in the opera house ever since it was reopened?"

I could have guessed it was about the only competition he's ever known. But why does he wants to know if Erik still "haunts" the building?

"Strange as in notes signed by O.G, you mean?"

He looks surprised I've guessed so easily. Probably because, although he knows I've always followed the opera business, the managers tried to keep as much information about Erik away from the media. However, they weren't very successful with their tries.

"Come on Raoul, I know the press didn't have as much as a field day with the story of your love-triangle as they wanted to because Andre, Firmin and especially Antoinette Giry stopped them but do you really think I haven't been warned by them as soon as I became a patron? I know the story.

But to answer your question: no, nothing strange has happened so far. "

"So he's gone?"

"I don't know," I lie easily. "All I know is that he's stopped haunting the building. Perhaps he stopped his actions after Christine had broken his heart."

"But there's a possibility he could be on the run?"

"Who knows? It's not liked I checked if he was still living somewhere underneath the opera house. Perhaps he's dead."

That, partially, wasn't a lie. When I went to his lair, I already knew he was still alive. However, Raoul doesn't need to know that.

"But what if he's still alive and decides to search for Christine to abduct her again?" he panics.

"Are you really afraid the man's going to break in into your heavily secured home or are you just longing for an excuse to kill the only rival you've ever known so far? If he's still alive, that is?" My, my, De Chagney, I wonder what Christine would have to say about this."

Angelique and the only upper-class woman in Paris more blunt than I am sometimes, also known as Victoria, have returned from the bathroom.

Raoul greets Angelique but glares at Victoria. I may dislike Raoul but it's nothing compared to the dislike Victoria and Raoul have for each other. Suddenly I have the feeling she and Erik would quite like each other.

Angelique looks at Victoria once the vicompte has left.

"Can't you, for once, be civil to him? He's not a bad man."

Victoria raises an eyebrow.

"He's not bad, no. He's incredibly shallow and that's what's annoying me. Remember how he reacted when he saw Celia's scars? Remember how he looked when he saw me together with Valere? As if looks are all that matters."

Angelique's eyes soften and I give Victoria a look of compassion. Valere was after all the first and perhaps the only man she ever loved . He had fought in the war, became heavily scarred and died two years ago because of it. Victoria has been looking for a replacement ever since. I remember very well how Victoria never forgave Raoul when she saw how shocked he looked when he saw Victoria and Valere together.

Then again, perhaps Victoria's scarred lover reminded him of someone else. A certain someone else. It wouldn't surprise me.

"Oh well, he has apologized for his reaction when he saw my scars," I shrug.

We decide to have desert and leave the restaurant. I wonder what Raoul is up to. Could it be he was getting tired of Chrstine's annoyance with him because he doesn't allow her to visit the Giry's in the Opera house? Could it be he wants to know if Erik's still inhabiting the opera so he can decide whether or not he'll allow Christine to visit her former home? Could it be that, once he believes that his former rival is either dead or has left the opera, he'll allow Christine to return?

What if Christine returns?

How will Erik react when he sees the first woman he has ever loved again?

The next day I nervously share my concerns about all of this with the Giry's. As happy as they are to see their friend again, they also glance nervously at box 5.

Should I warn Erik? Probably but how would he react? What if Raoul decides the opera house still isn't safe anymore and continues to forbid Christine from visiting? In that case, Erik might prepare himself for a visit of the woman he loves, only to find out Raoul will not allow her…

I wouldn't be surprised if that scenario would end with Erik paying a visit to the De Chagney mansion.

I sigh. Erik has the right to know if Christine suddenly shows up again. However, I do not look forward to telling him.


	20. Chapter 20

Bittersweet Chapter 20: I'd kill a dragon for you….

A/N: I don't own Phantom of the Opera and I don't own the song Troy by Sinnead O'Conner either. I think it's a very appropriate song for this chapter, by the way. (I did alter the text a little, since it's originally written in female perspective instead of male…).

Erik's PoV

I'm hiding in the rafters, watching how another day at the opera house unfolds before my eyes, when I see _her._

Her.

Celia has warned me last week she might come to visit the Giry's one day but I never thought it would be this soon. Now, she's talking enthusiastically to Meg and I realize my memory of her beauty hasn't done her justice.

_Oh Christine, do you even think of me at all…_

_Did you ever miss me?_

_I never meant to hurt you_

_I swear I didn't mean…._

Then, unbeknownst to her, she looks my way and smiles. My heart skips a beat but when I look into her eyes, it triggers the memory of the last time I saw her. How she betrayed me, ripped of my mask in front of an audience, after all that I had done for her. I had been there for her for all these years and in return she made me feel like that little boy a young Antoinette Giry saved from a freakshow. _No mercy for the Devil's child…._

I suddenly want to punch something.

Celia's PoV

I nervously watch Christine and Meg. I still don't know what to think of the countess. She isn't a bad woman but because of her naivety, she hurts more people than she intends to, not unlike her husband. True, Erik has made a lot of mistakes in his life but it's hard for me to sympathize with Christine after she ripped his mask off on stage, showing the world his greatest insecurity. No matter what he did, that isn't a way to treat someone who has always been there for you.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that the Giry's are reunited with Christine again. Besides, this was her home as much as it is mine, so I can understand why she would want to return. However, I wonder if Erik and how he might feel about a reunion right under his nose, ever influenced her decision to return, if only for a day.

"Celia, have you seen Christine?" Meg's voice disturbs my thoughts.

I give her a surprised look. "Wasn't she with you?"

"No, she had to excuse herself….Wait, the closest lavatory is next to your room isn't it?"

My eyes grow big. "And my room is her old room. With not only a lock that needs to be fixed but also the passage way to her old teacher's lair."

"Did you think he abducted her again?"

I shake my head but the truth is, I didn't know. Would Erik make the same mistake again? He didn't seem to think straight when it came to Christine in the past but after the events of Don Jaun triumphant, one might think he has learned.

"Maybe he did, maybe she decided to visit him on her own accord, I honestly don't know. Let's go."

As Meg and I nervously ran to my room, I couldn't help but wonder for whom I was more worried, Christine or Erik. I don't really believe he has kidnapped her again, after all, why would you kidnap the one who broke your heart? Then again, Erik was capable of anything.

But what if Christine had showed up herself in Erik's lair? How would my troubled and ill-fated friend react when he saw her again?

Erik's PoV

I sigh, not knowing if I currently long more for music or alcohol. I decide to choose for music now, I can always open that vintage wine bottle I stole from the kitchen later. I sit down in front of my organ and I begin to play.

I'll remember it  
Every restless night  
We were so young then  
We thought that everything we could possibly do was right  
Then we moved, stolen from our very eyes  
And I wondered where you went to  
Tell me when did the light die  
You will rise  
You'll return  
The phoenix from the flame  
You will learn  
You will rise  
You'll return  
Being what you are  
There is no other Troy for you to burn  
And I never meant to hurt you  
I swear I didn't mean those things I said  
I never meant to do that to you  
Next time I'll keep my hands to myself instead  
Oh, does he love you  
What do you want to do?  
Does he need you like I do?  
Do you love him?  
Is he good for you?  
Does he hold you like I do?  
Do you want me?  
Should I leave?  
I know you're always telling me  
That you love me  
Just sometimes I wonder if I should believe  
Oh, I love you  
God, I love you  
I'd kill a dragon for you  
I'll die  
But I will rise and I will return  
The Phoenix from the flame  
I have learned  
I will rise  
And you'll see me return  
Being what I am  
There is no other Troy  
For me to burn  
And you should I've left the light on  
You should've left the light on  
Then I wouldn't have tried  
And you'd never have known  
And I wouldn't have pulled you tighter  
No I wouldn't have pulled you close  
I wouldn't have screamed  
No I can't let you go  
And the door wasn't closed  
No I wouldn't have pulled you to me  
No I wouldn't have kissed your face  
You wouldn't have begged me to hold you  
If we hadn't been there in the first place  
Ah but I know you wanted me to be there oh  
Every look that you threw told me so  
But you should've left the light on  
You should've left the light on  
And the flames burned away  
But you're still spitting fire  
Make no difference what you say  
You're still a liar  
You're still a liar

I wrote it a week after I had watched Christine disappear with the boy and it still describes perfectly how I feel now.

That's when I turn around and see her enter my lair.

I don't know whether to be surprised or not.

"Angel, you're still alive! I feared the mob had…."

"Would you care either way if I had been alive or dead? It's not liked you ever came to see," I say bitterly, not looking at her.

"By the way, you know by now I'm not an angel. If you ever wondered, my name is Erik."

"I'm sorry Ang…Erik. I'm sorry for…" She hesitates before straightening her back and looking at me.

"I'm sorry for removing your mask on stage. Among…other things."

"Apology accepted," I say in a toneless voice. She frowns when she sees the look on my face.

"Oh Erik, I'm sorry that I've made you sad! After all, you have always been my friend for all these years and I do love you, you know."

Does she know she's only twisting the knife in the wound even more? Is she even aware of the fact that she's hurting me with every word? I should have chosen for the alcohol earlier.

"But you love the boy more. Please Christine, leave it."

I sigh. "Are you happy with him? Does he treat you properly?" Somehow the words "Did I ever had a chance?" remain stuck in my throat.

"Well yes but…."

"Good. That's all I ever wanted. However, if he ever treats you badly….I'll be there. Goodbye Christine."

"But can't way be friends?"

Friends? Of course.

"How would you picture our friendship Christine? Me having tea with you in the Chagney mansion while your husband and I are trying not to kill each other for your sake every time were in a room together?"

Now it's her time to sigh.

"You're right, I'm sorry. It's just….I'm just so confused! I mean, Raoul treats me perfectly but I do miss you."

"Christine, you've made your choice."

I face my pipe organ again, indicating that the conversation was nearing its ends. For months I had thought up scenario's of possible conversations we would have when I'd be reunited with Christine again but now, I just wanted her to leave me alone.

"It's too late for doubts about your decision now."

I make the mistake of looking at her again.

A single tear escapes from her eyes.

Before I know it, she kisses my check.

When I look again, she's gone.


	21. Chapter 21

Bittersweet Chapter 21

Erik's PoV

After Christine has left, I take a deep sigh and close my eyes. I feel numb. After a life of rejection and pain, after all the endless longing for my ex-student, I had yearned for the bliss of numbness.

Now, I miss the pain. I've known pain for all my life and I'm used to it like a cripple is used to not being able to walk. This numbness, not feeling anything anymore, scares me.

Suddenly I grow angry.

I've had enough of the pain.

I've had enough of the rejection.

I've had enough of still loving Christine until my dying day even though even _she_ couldn't look past my poor excuse for a face.

After all these years I've been there for her…

I've had enough of my broken heart.

I walk to the mirror I once stole from the prop room, rip my mask off and stare at my own, monstrous reflection.

I may have had enough the pain and heartbreak but that's all I deserve isn't it? All I can ever wish for is this! It would be foolish to hope for more!

My scream, echoes though my lair and sounds foreign, even to me.

"_CHRISTINE!"_

Celia's PoV

I follow Meg as she runs to my room. However, before we reach it, we bump into Christine and I feel guilty for immediately assuming the worst about Erik and him kidnapping the young ex-soprano again.

That's not exactly how you should think about a friend, isn't it?

That's when we look at her and see she's trying not to cry.

"Oh my goodness, Christine, what happened?" Meg asks frantically.

Christine shakes her head.

"Nothing has happened, Meg. It's just….No one feels good about themselves when you realize you've treated someone more cruelly than you ever though you could."

She walks past us to Antoinette and hugs her. Meg, Antoinette and I look at each other, our worry prominent in our features.

After Antoinette has dragged Christine away, I run to my room. As I stand in front of the mirror that hides the pathway to Erik's lair, I realize I hesitate. After all, Erik's temper is legendary and thanks to Christine, his reaction to seeing me in his lair, is quite unpredictable. Plus, if he's really upset (and he probably is), he might take off his mask to wipe his tears away. If I accidently spot him with his deformity bared, I know he'll never forgive me, no matter what my reaction to his face is.

Then again, he needs someone to be there for him, now more than ever.

I push my doubts aside and walk to his lair.

I'm nearly there when I hear him.

"CHRISTINE!"

His voice sounds so distorted it almost sounds inhuman and I back away. I've never truly have been frightened of him, or at least, he could never frighten me as much as he could frighten the rest of the world, until now.

Alright, what should I do? I can't just leave him alone when he's like this but I'm not sure if he would appreciate some company now.

I decide to write him a note and deliver it to him by folding it into a paper plane and throwing it in the general direction of his lair. That way I can still let him know that if he want a shoulder to cry on, he can come to me, without disturbing his privacy.

Two hours later, there's still no sign of Erik. I walk through the stone tunnel to his lair again and listen.

It's silent. Too silent.

He's not even playing his organ.

Worried, I walk back to my room, not really knowing what to do. I grab a book and try to read but after realizing I've been staring at the same sentence for ten minutes, I give up.

I've had enough of doing nothing but waiting.

I stand up and walk to his underground home for the third time in 2 hours.

That's when I see him standing in the pathway, the note I wrote to him crumpled in his hand. He looks hesitant, indecisive, part of him wanting to run back to the safety of his lair.

He freezes when he sees me. He looks haggard, his black hair messy instead of neatly combed back, his white shirt wrinkled. I know Erik always makes sure he's dressed to perfection, so to see him like this, shocks me. That, combined with the fact that he hasn't even played his music, makes me grab his hand and drag him along with me.

He needs someone now.

Back in his lair, I wait patiently until he speaks. His silence unnerves me.

"What do you want?"

"Just to make sure you're alright."

Silence.

"Why do you care?" he asks me softly, his voice bitter.

Then, louder…."I could kill you in a heartbeat! I'm a monster!"

"I know you won't kill me, Erik, or do other unspeakable things to me. After all, if you truly were a monster, you would have attacked me the moment we first met.

Despite everything, you're not an evil man, Erik. Do you honestly think I would have offered you my friendship if I had truly believed everything ignorant men and women have said about you? Ever since you were an infant? As for your crimes, as long you don't commit them again, I will not judge for it. After the kind of life you've had, I feel like judging you isn't a woman's, nor a man's, task. I've told you this be…''

That's when I see the hand that isn't holding my crumpled note. It's wounded, covered with deep , bloody gashes. He's been physically hurt all this time, leaving a bloody trail all over his lair and I didn't even see it! His lair is incredibly messy too, like a whirlwind has passed through it and I doubt I truly want to know what caused it.

"Oh Erik, what happened? Let me bind it for you! Where do you keep the first aid box?"

My obvious worry and care for his wellbeing, seems to trigger something in Erik and even though he turns himself away from me, probably for dignity's sake, I know he is breaking down and crying. The sight of the lonely, misunderstood man in front of me, tugs on my heartstrings and before I know it, I'm holding him while he cries on my shoulder.

He reminds me now more of a rejected child, wondering why his own mother won't hug him, than the strong, aloof, intimidating man he grew up to be. It's suddenly very hard to remember that this man is wanted by the gendarmerie for murder. I wonder what caused him to commit the crime. Fear of chased at, get caught and being locked up because of his face again? Anger of being mentioned as a monster, his shameful disfigurement even more exaggerated to scare the ballet rats? Did they bother Christine, stare at her chest, like they do at mine? Probably a combination of all three.

One might say it's taking an easy way out to not judge him for his past crimes but if they saw Erik now, crying because someone cared whether he was alive or dead, I'm sure even the best human judge on the earth would leave this task up to God. And I'm not even religious.

Plus, the world's judgment is one of the main reasons Erik ended up the way he is, so look where judging brings you.

I look at him as I stroke his back as a way a mother would calm her son. Goodness knows his own mother never did this.

That's when Erik suddenly realizes what he's doing and looks at me. He's blushing. After all, it's highly inappropriate to sob into a lady's shoulder while holding her close. On the other hand, I don't care. It's not like society had ever been appropriate to him and it's not like he's currently holding me as a way of seduction, anyway. He just needs someone to care.

He opens his mouth to apologies but I shake my head with a small smile.

We let go of each other and he sits down on his couch with a sigh.

"You were right. You were right about…about her." It's obvious this admission causes him great pain and I wait for him to continue."

"She said she still misses me. I wonder if she'll ever truly choose. If she ever has the strength to say no to either one of us. If I hadn't forced her, she'd still be happy giving both me and him false hope, to naïve to realize how much it hurts both of us. "

He pauses.

"She only made a choice because we told her too and because he voiced his words more carefully, less intimidating, she choose him. The only thing she truly wants is to have both of us in her life and even if we would have agreed to that, she wouldn't have had the strength to make sure both of us ARE in her life. "

"What did she say to you?" I ask softly.

"She asked if we could be friends. Don't get me wrong, I would go to the depths of hell if she told me too but us having tea in the Chagney mansion, her foolish boy watching us like a hawk?"

He sighs. "She's naïve and I fear I'm partially to blame, just like her father, Antoinette and the vicompte. After all, we all tried keep the whole fantasy world Gustave Daae created for her alive after the man himself died. It's time for her to wake up now and that's something she has to do alone."

He shakes his head sadly.

"I love her Celia, more than I can even express in words but….

It's hopeless isn't it? You tried to warm me but I was foolish and I'm sorry for the way I behaved."

"It's alright Erik. You weren't foolish, you're in love. I know our situations aren't completely similar but I reacted the same way when my friends Victoria, Rosalinde, Angelique and even Berenger tried to convince me I had to stop hoping Stefano would leave Dominique and marry me."

"What are your feelings for Stefano now?"

I shrug. "I know I'll never be completely indifferent to him because I did love him deeply and he's still a good friend of mine but I know now, we would never be truly happy. But believe me, it took me a lot of time and tears to get to this point."

Erik nods before standing up.

"Do you want some wine? I wanted to open a bottle anyway."

"Yes, thank you."

He hesitates.

"How about making some music together? I think we could both use it to make ourselves feel better."

I smile, feeling flattered. After all, except for Christine, I'm the only one who'll ever make music with the infamous 'angel'.

"I love too, I'll go fetch my violin."


	22. Chapter 22

Bittersweet Chapter 22 Lost

Celia's PoV

When I return with my violin, I hear organ music when enter Erik's lair. He's so wrapped in his music he doesn't even notice I'm back. I can't help but to stare at him. Not because I wonder what his face looks behind the white mask but because the passionate look on his face enchants me. He looks so devoted and loving to his art and I realize Christine would probably get that same devotion if she had stayed, if only out of Erik's fear of losing her sooner or later anyway. He'd probably be a very passionate lover too…

I shake my head to remove those last thoughts. Where on earth did those thoughts came from anyway?

Erik has changed into a more somber song and the look that graces his face now breaks my heart. After all, I can't even imagine how his life has been because of his face, something he probably can't even control.

It's sad how much Erik reminds me of Valere sometimes. I wish they could have met, they would like each other.

If only he hadn't died.

"Celia?" Erik's voice disturbes my thoughts.

"Ready to create some art?"

I smile and nod before we lose ourselves in the music and nothing matters anymore.

Erik's PoV

I escort Celia back to her room around midnight. It's ironic that I've spend more time in Christine's old room now that it's Celia's than I ever did when I was still _her_ angel.

I take one last look at Celia before I wish her goodnight.

She fascinates me. Perhaps just as much as Christine.

Not that I'm in love with Celia of course.

She is a beautiful woman though.

I shake my head to remove that particular thought. I need to get some sleep.

And not dream of either Christine _or _Celia

Celia's PoV

I wake up when someone knocks at my door and I sleepily check the pocket watch that lays on my nightstand. It's 8 in the morning. Terrific.

"Please wait a minute, I'm not decent."

"it's Meg."

At least it isn't Andre or Firmin.

"Alright, come in."

"Wow, I really did woke you up," she says as she sees me and I roll my eyes.

"Yes. Now what's the matter Meg?"

"Someone stole money from the mangers' office. Firmin, Andre and mother are waiting for you."

I mutter a very unladylike word under my breath and quickly grab my clothes to chance after I've talked to Meg.

"Do you have any idea who could be the thief ?"

"It has to be someone inside this opera because the money was stolen at night and you know how tight security is." Ever since the whole drama with Erik, Raoul and Christine, more men were hired to guard the main doors, because Firmin and Andre were convinced Erik would try to flee.

As if Erik would a: ever leave the opera house, b: use the main entrance to flee. Honestly, Antoinette and Reyer, the conductor, are the only ones with brains in the management team here. And Erik and me, of course.

"So the thief has to be someone who knows this opera house well and knows how to sneak around. Let me guess, our dear managers blame the opera ghost again."

"Of course. You know they would even blame our defeat against the Prussions on monsieur le fantome if they could get away with it. Why would Erik steal from a place he considers as his?"

"He wouldn't. He gets paid now for writing the last and current opera this house is presenting. Besides, I was with him last night."

"You were? Was he a good company?" Meg winks

"Meg, do I even want to know what you mean with 'company'? I was there as his friend to let him cry on his shoulder because of Christine and as a fellow musician to play music with him, that's all.

Please don't let Erik and I suffer from your match-making skills."

"I know, I was just joking. It's just interesting he's the one guy you even talk more to than Stefano."

"Yes, because he's my friend and because we have to run this opera house. Besides, how are things between you and Michel?"

Michel is a cello player and Meg's got not so innocent thoughts about him for as long as I've known her. At my question she turns beat red.

We don't stop analyzing Michel's possible feelings for Meg until we enter the office and Meg excuses herself.


	23. Chapter 23

Bittersweet 23: Old friends

(Celia's PoV)

When I enter the managers' office, Antoinette, Firmin and Andre are already waiting for me.

"I assume mademoiselle Giry has already told you what happened mylady?" Firmin asks. Every time I meet him he seems impressed by the fact that I was born with a title and apparently, today is no different. I nod as a reaction.

"Do you have an idea who might have stolen the money?" I ask.

"The opera ghost of course! He's back!" Andre pipes up and Antoinette and I suppress our urge to roll our eyes.

"Come on monsieur Andre, we haven't heard anything from him for months," Antoinette points out and the managers give her suspicious looks.

After all, they both see her as the "enemy's ally".

"She has a point. We haven't heard anything from him since the fire. For all we know he died. Besides, didn't his old love interest Christine De Chagney visit yesterday? If she doesn't even make him show signs of life, the chance is big he isn't even alive anymore," I say, rescuing Antoinette.

"Look, the doors to enter this opera house are heavily guarded but no one guards the floors. Why don't we hire someone who can guard them?"

Firmin sighs, knowing I have a point.

"Alright, I'll hold auditions the day after tomorrow."

"Monsieur Firmin, I would like to hold the auditions myself. After all, I'd feel more safe if I can chose the man who will be protecting me."

Two days later I regret my offer to hold the auditions myself. All the solicitants I've spoken to have two goals: capture the opera ghost and seduce the ballet rats. Not necessarily in that order, though. If I'd hire any of them, Antoinette will be thrilled.

Hopefully the last solicitant is more suited for this job.

When I ask him to enter, a Persian man of about fifty walks in the room and introduces himself as Nadir Kahn.

"What makes you the best candidate for this job, monsieur Kahn?"

"I used to be the dagora, head of the police, of the Shah in Persia for years. Plus, I know this opera house better than most. "

"Really, why?"

"It's because I gave him a tour once," Erik's disembodied voice suddenly echoes across the moon.

Nadir simply raises an eyebrow. "You don't know the meaning of the word 'subtlety, don't you Erik?"

"I assume you two know each other?"

"Yes, we're friends," Nadir answers at the same time a large painting suddenly moves to reveal the hidden pathway Erik used to listen in into our conversation.

"I assume you two know each other? That explains the lack of notes".

I shrug.

"I figured one can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so I visited Erik's lair. When he presented me his list of ideas for this opera house, I couldn't help but to agree, both from a musical or artistical as well as a financial viewpoint, so we decided to collaborate," I explain to monsieur Kahn.

He raises an eyebrow before looking at our masked friend.

"Erik, since when do you collaborate with someone?"

Now, it was Erik's time to shrug.

"She's an excellent violinist, has brains, good ideas and knows how to run an opera house," he answers and I smile, genuinely touched by his compliments, especially because I know how rare they are.

Nadir looks at me curiously after Erik's compliment but doesn't say anything.

"Anyway, you're hired monsieur Kahn."

"That easily?"

"I assume you know better than to try to capture a certain O.G. and get a little too well acquainted with Erik's Punjab lasso or try to impregnate one of the ballet rats and face Antoinette's wrath, as well as the blunt end of her walking stick."

Nadir shudders when I mention Antoinette's infamous walking stick and Erik snorts before leaving.

Christine's litle visit yesterday has inspired quite a few songs for his new opera, apparently. Poor man.

"So, monsieur Kahn, do you have any further questions?"

"Yes, what's your bond with Erik? You seem to mean more to him than a mere acquaintance."

"Well, next to a respected colleague, I consider him a friend. Why?"

Kahn sighs.

"Look mademoiselle, I do not mean to offend but as one of the very few friends Erik has, I feel obliged to ask…Erik has known no kindness from anybody except for me and Antoinette, even Christine left him in the end. But all of a sudden you, a woman of noble birth, treats him, a man known as a murderer, like he's just a normal man. How come? How come you treat him like he always wanted to be treated right from the moment you've met him, while the rest of the world shuns him?"

"You want to know if I have a hidden agenda?"

Nadir looks uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't put it like that…"

"Don't worry monsieur Kahn, I'm not offended. I know you want to protect a friend and you ask some good questions. But no, I have no hidden agenda to send him to the gendarme for money, or have some sick fascination for the scars he prefers to keep hidden."

"Is it because of you reputation then?"

I give him a soft smile. "Partially."

"You do not have to answer me if you wish."

"It's alright."

"I'd quite like to know your reasons for not treating me like everyone else to mademoiselle Godain," an icy voice interrupts us. Erik is standing in the doorway of his secret passage.

"And what do you mean by 'your reputation'."

"Sit down Erik, I'll tell you why I've always treated you the way I do. You deserve to know."


	24. Chapter 24

Bittersweet Chapter 24: Valere

After Erik and Nadir have taken a seat, I show them a Daguerre type picture and point at the people portrayed.

"These people are my six best friends, whom I've known since childhood. The reason why I, as well as my friends, have a reputation for being decadent, is because we don't behave the way society expects us aristocrats to behave."

"I've seen them all in my opera house, except for the man on the far left," Erik states and I give him a sad smile.

"I would be shocked if you _would _see him. I think an introduction round is in order: the couple on the far right are Rosalinde and Berenger, both considered shocking for having extravagant parties, yet preferring to have a much smaller staff of servants than usual to arrange said parties for them. Berenger is considered extravagant for being a writer, selling his stories under a pseudonym. It's of course shocking to like writing books more than hunting or horse riding, like the other aristocrats."

I roll with my eyes as I say this.

"Rosalinde is considered shocking for being a sculptor, especially since she doesn't shy away from making statues of nude men and women. If she hadn't been married to Berenger, her virtue would be questioned constantly for this."

I point to the brown-haired woman standing next to Berenger.

"This is Angelique. Her crime is not only being unmarried at the age of 24 but even worse, she seems to have little to no interest in finding a suitor. She's more interested in physics and philosophy. Have you heard of this neurologist Sigmund Freud? She's fascinated by his methods of analysis. She also loves making Daguerre-type pictures. She made a few of mine. However, those aren't known to be suitable hobbies for a young aristocratic lady, who should be thinking of nothing else, other than marriage. Or at least, according to society.

"As you can see, I'm standing next to her. The reason I'm known to be a strange lady is because of my love for music, my talent for playing the violin, not having a husband but having a job instead. The man to my left is my dear Stefano. Although all of my friends can be incredibly blunt, he's probably the bluntest of them all. On top of that he has an inappropriate passion for music, one he obviously shares with me, has had bouts of melancholy in the past and is about to be engaged to a middle class woman, instead of an upper-class one."

I point to Victoria and Valere. Here comes the difficult part, I think by myself. Nadir and Erik are obviously wondering what the description of my friends has to do with treating Erik with more kindness than anyone has ever given him before, ever since we first met. Well, they're about to find out, I think glumly.

"The couple on the far right are Baron and Baroness Valere and Victoria. Victoria is infamous for being bold in everything, from protesting for equal rights, along with the other members of the Suffragette movement, as taking up multiple stage names to act and dance in local plays and ballets. Of course completely unsuitable behavior for a baroness," I say with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Valere was the only one who could calm her down. He was intimidating but kind once you got to know him and very protective of the people and things he cared about. I know he would be proud of me if he could have see me now, finally having the life I've wanted all along instead of being tied down to a husband who likes my title of lady more than my personality. He was known as an eccentric for being a painter, with his beloved Victoria as his muse. Plus, he's the only Baron I've ever met so far who didn't care about his social status.

I look at Erik and Nadir. They had raised their eyebrows in surprise when the realized I was talking about Valere in past tense.

"Our lives changed when the war against the Pruissians started. Berenger, Stefano and Valere all volunteered to fight along with the other soldiers instead of using their titles to have a relatively calm life with the officers, away from the battle grounds. They claimed that in times of war, social classes do not matter. Even though Victoria, Rosalinde, Angelique and I agreed with them and applauded their actions on an intellectual level, we were terrified for the lives of our husbands and friends.

They all returned alive, thankfully but they were changed men. Berenger, the calmest, gentlest, easy going man I know, gets incredibly angry when someone asks him about his experiences in the army and refuses to talk about the horrors he has seen and experienced. Stefano refuses to talk about it as well but tried to drown his personal demons in both opium and alcohol. It took all six of us to convince him to stop drowning his pain in absinthe.

However, Berenger's and Stefano's scars were only emotional. Valere's scars weren't. The reason why he's posing en profil, looking to the left on the Daguerre type picture I'm currently showing you, is because he has lost his left hand, of course terrible for a painter and has multiple scars covering the left side of his face."

I sigh.

"Due to being naturally clumsy, I've got multiple scars on my legs. It's another reason why I've never been fascinated by Erik's scars, by the way. Anyway, I gave the ointment I use to treat my scars to Valere but even that couldn't stop the wounds to become infected.

Valere Du Tours died 1,5 years ago because of those infections.

However, I'm not sure what really killed him in the end: those battle scars or how he was treated by society for having them.

I'm know I've had a privileged life so far but the blinders came from my eyes when I saw Paris' reaction to my now heavily scarred friend. People who didn't knew him looked away or pointed and stared like he was an animal in the zoo, people he considered friends turned their back on them or at least grew distant. Among that second group was, unsurprisingly, Raoul De Chagney.

I honestly do not wish to think about what could have happened to him, were he not protected by both his title and the six of us, especially Victoria. Naturally, he grew even more depressed than Stefano and Berenger combined and at one point he even told Victoria, the love of his life, to leave him because she 'deserved better'. Of course, Victoria flat-out refused. He died in her arms 5 months after their wedding."

I look at Erik. He looks sad, no doubt seeing the similarities between Valere's life and his and probably realizing why I didn't think Christine and he would belong together. Christine would never have the strength Victoria still shows when it comes to Valere. She fought for him and supported him before and after he returned from the war and will do so in his memory as well.

"During Valere's funeral, the six of us made a vow. Learning from society's reaction to scars, wounds and other forms of damage a person can have, we made the promise to never judge a person based on both appearance and/or idle gossip. We also vowed to not judge a person based on his or her past either, having a different view of wrong and right than most, thanks to the war, as long as the person in question showed true remorse for his crimes.

I shall not break that vow.

Any questions, gentlemen?"

An hour later I walk to the Pere Lachaise cemetery. Stefano is waiting for me at the gates. In silence, we walk to Valere's grave. Berenger and Rosalinde look at the tomb that is his final resting place while Angelique supports Victoria, who has come to pay her respect to her husband who has died to soon.


	25. Chapter 25

Bittersweet Chapter 25: A day in the life of an Opera house Patron

**Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait. I've got a lot of new inspiration for this story though, because I've finally seen the POTO musical in London. I loved it!**

Celia's PoV

I took a much needed break from work after returning from Valere's grave. Of course, this means that the following morning is swamped with the tasks I hadn't done last night. I look forward to watching Charlotte Dubois rehearse her title role of Carmen in the afternoon, before having a meeting with Reyer to discuss the upcoming Opera's which would be the aforementioned Carmen and the still nameless Opera Erik is working on and is due this april. I know Reyer is wondering who our mysterious new composer is because he always praises Erik's work but fortunately he doesn't press the question too much. If he's got a hunch about who's really behind the opera that's currently running a sold out show night after night, he doesn't show it. Perhaps because he's one of the surprisingly few who can recognize musical brilliance that's far more original than most of the classic, if not slightly outdated pieces. As for Andre and Firmin: as long the seats are filled, they don't really seem to care. Fools.

First things first, I think by myself as a I grab two mugs of coffee and grab my coat to give myself more heat as I walk down to the dimly lit passageway to Erik's lair. The first assignment for today is the one I always dread the most: choosing which employees I have to fire. I'm glad Erik helps me with this, because I always feel terrible guilty when I have to tell employees they have to leave, even though I know they have to go for a valid reason and after multiple warnings.

Erik's PoV

I stare into the flames of the lit fire place, pondering about the everything Celia told me yesterday. The story of Valere certainly explains a lot about Celia's behavior towards me. After all, even though Valere wasn't deformed from birth, the similarities between his life and mine are quite clear. I also realize now why Celia claimed that as much as Christine may love me, she never had the strength to truly be with me. Even I can see Christine doesn't have the strength to stand beside me everyday like Victoria did until Valere's funeral.

After hearing all this, it makes me wonder how Celia would react if she saw my face. Not that I was planning to show her of course, but still….Her vow would certainly be put to the test.

"Erik, it's me! I've brought coffee." My thoughts are disturbed by a smiling Celia, holding two cups in her hand. After thanking her, I raise an eyebrow.

"You really are addicted to the drink, aren't you?"

She shrugs. "What can I say, I'm not a morning person, I prefer the evening. It's more mysterious. Plus, lots of my favorite songs, both from others as well as my own compositions, sound better at night. "

"I agree with you there."

"I'm not surprised, most of your music somehow sounds even better when it's dark. It's really music of the night."

I choke in my coffee when she says that and after patting me on the back, she looks at me in confusion.

"Did I say something odd?"

"No, Celia." I pause.

"I wrote a song called 'Music of the night' once…"

"Somehow I'm not surprised."

Then, her smiles changes into a look of sympathy.

"You wrote it for her, didn't you. To woo her."

I nod.

"I'm sorry Erik, I didn't mean to stir memories."

"It's alright, you didn't know."

"Anyway, I could use your advice on opera staff matters."

"You're wondering whether to fire Claude Malhome, the painter who provides decent scenery backdrops but is legendary for his foul temper, aggression and his tendency to assault the ballet rats or Henry Faibles, who once was a good painter and a kind man but who has become completely unreliable due to his addiction to alcohol? They have been warned, a less kindred heart would already have fired them but tell me Celia, who are you willing to give one last chance?"

She doesn't ask me how I know, she just simply sighs.

"I'm tempted to give Faibles one last chance. He is a gentle man and has shown his artistic talents quite well through the years he has been employed here and unlike Malhome, he's got a familie he has to provide for."

"You know he spends all the money he earns on liquor. And you have to decide what is in the best interest of the opera, not whom you pity the most. And technically, Malhome currently provides better pieces., even though Faibles' work shows more feeling in the few times he isn't inhebrated."

"I know, if only he would stop drinking…. But I guess it's time for a decision. "

Celia's PoV

When I go to bed at midnight, I feel sad and worried. Next to the fact that I absolutely hate having to fire people, I also have an inexplicable sense of threat, like I feel something bad is going to happen.

Hours later, I'm still awake and sensing that I will not rest much this night and decide to walk to the kitchen and make myself some hot chocolate.

I grab my bathrobe and walk through the deserted corridors, feeling somehow safer knowing that Erik and monsieur Khan are still awake and keeping an eye on the opera house and its people.

The clock chimes, it's four o'clock.

That moment, two strong arms grab me from behind and cover my mouth before I have a chance to scream.


	26. Chapter 26

Bittersweet Chapter 26: 4 O'Clock

**Ok, the beginning of this chapter describes an assault. It isn't pretty, nor it ever will be but it is necessary for the story. If it offends you, don't read. **

Celia's PoV

"Do you really think you could get rid of me that easily?" my captor grunts and I gasp as I recognize his voice.

It's Claude Malhome, the backdrop painter I fired today because of his appalling behavior!

For a few moments I stand still, frozen in my shock, before biting in the hand he uses to cover my mouth. He curses and lets go, a moment I use to push him away and run while screaming. I don't even know what I scream in my panic, as long as it attracts attention from someone, anyone, who could help me get away from him in my own opera house. Maybe screaming 'fire' helps, I wonder in my dazed mind. After all, a large part of this opera house is made from wood.

I should have known he easily catches me. With his bulky, nearly 6 ft frame I'm no match for him.

He pushes me against the wall and suddenly I feel a blinding pain in my legs. He has cut them to make sure I don't flee again. My mind tells me I'm trapped and unless someone pulls him off of me, I'm left at his mercy. My need for survival is stronger though and temporarily ignoring the pain, I try to knee him in the groin. I fail and with horror I notice the alcohol on his breath and how he reaches to his waist to undo his pants.

"You're lucky I even pay attention to you, you harlot. Do you really think any man would want you? Some stupid cow who thinks she can rule the world? It's time for you to remember your place in the kitchen , you crazy whore! And you think you can fire me? Who did you fuck to get this job anyway? You must be a good fuck, or else they would never let a woman make decisions. Now, be a good little trollop for me as well!"

With my final strength I try to push him away. That's when he suddenly is pulled off of me and I notice there's a lasso around his neck. With noting to support my weight anymore, I fall but before I hit the floor, dark-skinned hands catch me.

Erik's PoV

It's 4 o'clock at night and as usual, I cannot sleep. After realizing I also have a composer writing block, I decide to take a walk through the deserted halls of the opera house with Nadir, who's guarding the floors.

Just when Nadir and I start to take our walk, I hear a muffled scream, barely noticeable for anyone except for those wide awake, like Nadir and I .

When we run in the general direction of wherever the noise came from, the screams get louder and my blood freezes in my veins when I realize I recognize the voice.

My shock turns into fury when I realize Malherbe is attempting to rape Celia and I don't even hear Nadir gasp as we look at the sight in front of us.

Then, I see the fear and disgust in Celia's eyes and I want to torture Malherbe in many ways before killing him for even daring to put his filthy paws on Celia. How dare he!

I grab my lasso and pull him off of Celia before Nadir catches her. Malherbe looks at me in fright and I want to strangle him as painful as possible. That's when I look at Celia. She's scared to death and I suddenly remember how Christine turned to Raoul after I had killed Buquet. I realize that no matter what Malherbe has done, Celia would never approve of murder right in front of her face. The idea of losing Celia like I had lost Christine cuts like a cold knife through my haze of bloodlust.

"You're lucky I don't kill in front of a lady," I say with as much venom as possible, before rendering Malherbe unconscious and dropping him on the floor.

Celia's PoV

When monsieur Khan asks me if I'm alright, I manage to get out of my state of shock a little to answer him.

"You need to stop the blood," the Persian man commands before cutting a piece of cloth of my nightgown to use as a temporarily makeshift bandage.

"Thank you so much, if you and Erik hadn't come….," I don't want to think about how my night would have ended without my two saviors.

Erik drops Malherbe with a loud thud on the ground.

"Is he dead?''

"Unconscious," his normally musical voice sounds uncharacteristically toneless.

When he walks over to me, I suddenly notice the look in his eyes. The fury from earlier has been replaced with worry, concern, sadness and love and it makes me stumble to him. He catches me before I fall over and I hold him tight before breaking down and crying. He sighs sadly before softly stroking my back and singing words of comfort in my ear, making me calm down. In the meantime, monsieur Khan has used Erik's now forgotten Punjab lasso to tie Malherbe's hands and feet.

"What's going on here?"

Meg is standing a few feet away and in an almost detached way I realize how strange this all must look to Meg: the elderly foreign man who shows his years of training as Daroga by keeping an eye on a still unconscious Malherbe, while I cling the to the phantom of the opera for dear life.

I gently let go of Erik before wobbling over to Meg, who manages to catch me before I fall, while Erik offers me a chair.

"Oh Meg, Malherbe tried to….tried to…." It was obviously too early to finish that sentence without stuttering but after seeing Meg's look of horrified realization, it was obvious I didn't need to.

"Erik and monsieur Khan pulled him off of me in time."

"Oh my goodness, that's terrible! Anything I can do to help?"

I looked at my attacker.

"Well, somebody has to bring him to the police and make sure he doesn't escape along the way."

"I will do that," monsieur Khan offers. "Maybe Antoinette and her walking stick can come along." If I weren't still shaking from shock, I might have laughed at how infamous Antoinette's beloved piece of wood has become.

"Good idea, Meg, please wake your mother."

"Not necessary. You know, if I had a clue about what on Earth is going on here, I might point out how lucky you are it's me who's wandering around instead of the managers. Erik, you're lucky nobody else saw you." We turn around to see the ballet mistress standing there with a worried look on her face.

After explaining the situation to Antoinette, she and Khan leave to bring Malherbe to the police, leaving Meg, Erik and I alone. Erik takes a look at the cloth on my legs.

"The bleeding has stopped but I doubt you can walk back to your room." It isn't a question.

"I highly doubt I can walk up those stairs, yes."

"Here's my idea: I'll carry you to your room, where Meg keeps you company while I grab my medical box in my lair. I have acquired some medical knowledge over the years and will treat your wounds. Is that alright with you?"

"It's ok Erik, I trust your judgment."

Erik gives me a soft smile and I know he's truly touched by the fact that I trust him, before picking me up and carrying me bridal style to my room, while Meg follows us.


	27. Chapter 27

Bittersweet Chapter 27: The aftermath

Celia's PoV

Erik shoots me one last worried glance before heading to his lair to get his medicine kit. I watch him leave through the mirror entrance. Meg gives me a worried look as well.

"Did he Erik and monsieur Khan really pulled him off of you before he touched you anywhere intimate?" she blurts out.

"I don't mean to be so blunt but I can understand that perhaps you'd prefer to tell the more delicate details to a woman?"

Despite everything I give a small smile, grateful for Meg's thoughtfulness, before shaking my head.

"No Meg, Erik and monsieur Khan really were there in time before Malhome could do actual damage."

Saying the name of my attacker leaves a vile taste in my mouth and I try not to think about what could have happened if my rescuers hadn't come in time.

Meg lets out a relieved sigh.

"Is there anything I can do to help?'

It takes me a surprisingly large amount of energy to think. I can still feel the hands of that stagehand and I repress the urge to vomit.

"Could you give me a bucket of water please? I want to scrub the skin off of my body where that pig touched me," I grumble.

Meg nods. The sounds of the water filling the bucket pulls me out of my haze and suddenly I feel a burst of anger and disgust. It has been nearly an hour after the attack and in the first few minutes, after monsieur Khan, the Giry's and Erik helped me and brought me back to my room and Malhome to prison, my brain gave its best effort to block all the feelings of what happened. Remembering the attack would be similar to watching someone else's nightmare. Now, all those feelings are starting to return. The fear, the disgust, the anger, the smell of his breath, the feel of his knife cutting in my legs and his words….his words.

I know he's just a pompous pig and I shouldn't listen to anything he says but still, those words cut deep within me. I suddenly realize something and freeze, before shuddering in revulsion.

Meg returns with a bucket of warm water and a cloth so I can wash myself.

"Meg, were you or your mother ever bothered in the opera house?"

"Well, next to the peeping stagehands, in the beginning there certainly were people who looked down upon us because I had no father and mother had to work but when people's respect of her grew, the comments stopped. Why do you ask?"

" Do you know what frightens me Meg? Malhomme's attack wasn't a simple reaction to the fact that he was fired. If it had simply angered him that he was fired, no matter who told him, no matter if it was me who brought the news to him or the managers, he would have responded in physical violence, not sexual. There would have been no difference in the reaction he would have shown towards Andre and Firmin as opposed to me. However, I don't believe this is the case, for I highly doubt he would responded with sexual violence if it had been the managers, the male managers, who had dismissed him."

I swallow heavily.

"Rape or attempted rape isn't motivated by some sick sense of lust, or at least, not primarily. It's main motivation is power. Malhome's anger isn't because he was fired in general, it's because he was fired by a _woman. _This is not anger about losing a job, this is a power struggle between a man who believes no woman is allowed to have power over him and a woman ,me, who believes otherwise because of my unique position as a female patron._"_

I pause, collecting my thoughts before sighing deeply. "In fact, one of the main reasons I fired Malhome is because of his treatment of any member of our sex, which, in truth can be considered a biased reason, especially in his mind. Would have a man fired him for that reason alone?"

"Erik would."

I nod.

"I believe Erik would. Perhaps other more intelligent and brave men like our conducter, Reyer, as well. But the managers? Although it was a sign of bravery Firmin and Andre accepted me as a patron, I doubt they dare to tell a tall, muscled, strong man like Malhome to pack his back and leave. Because he's an intimidating man and most managers were more interested in telling ridiculous ghost stories about Erik like a bunch of old spinsters, he could have continued harassing the women here, especially the ballet rats for many more years. Add the fact that most ballet rats are considered little more than putains by most of the patrons and aren't taken seriously in general, no one would have gone through the trouble of standing up to him if I hadn't come to the opera house and collaborate with your mother."

Meg nods sadly.

"He thinks us beneath us and views us as property, Meg. That's why he can't stand the idea of a woman having power over him, the power to fire him and because I tried, he reacted in trying to influence the, in his view, askew power balance between us so that he has power over me again in the most simple but cruel way possible, like he believes to be the natural order. After all, Meg, what am I without my virtue? What will happen to me if my virtue is questioned?"

"You would be ruined. There's certainly a big chance it could lose you the job you've worked so hard for, your father would be questioned about the way he raised you and you would end up as an old spinster because no man will marry you, in all likelihood."

"Indeed. If his plan had succeeded and people would have found out, he would not only give me nightmares of the event for the rest of my life, I would also have to leave the opera house and without me firing him, he could have easily continued to work here and treat people the way he does for years to come and as grand finale, I would never live my life the way I want to, either ending up dying alone and miserable or trapped in marriage where I have to do nothing but submit myself to a husband I don't even love. A life I had hoped to avoid, all of it as punishment because I'm not a woman who can be bullied into submission by anyone, no matter their sex. It's a good thing he didn't count on Erik and monsieur Khan."

"That's certainly a good thing." Meg's eyes grow wide. "You're afraid it's going to happen again isn't it? You're afraid that some people will never accept a woman with power like some people will never accept my mother and resort to violence the moment you have to make a decision they don't like."

"Meg, the whole attack was based on the idea that I shouldn't be doing a man's job! How many others are there who believe the same thing? I don't think everyone will resort to such extreme violence but I do believe some people will think I'm to blame for this attack because I brought it on to myself! Both men and women! After all, if I had accepted that a woman can't do anything else but obey and serve her husband and bare a lot of male heirs, not work as a patron in Opera Garnier, none of this would have happened."

I try to bite away my frustration but somehow I don't fully succeed.

"Look, I knew right from the start when I took this job that I had to prove myself over and over again and couldn't afford any mistake. I knew I had to show my skills and knowledge every single day while the knowledge and skills of my predecessor Raoul, a guy who can't see nor hear the difference between a cello and a violin if someone would hit him over the head with it, were never questioned at all. Nor those from the managers, who had previous jobs in the scrap metal business, of all things!

The point is, I can understand some people are wary because I am the first female patron and I know the managers had taken a risk when they accepted me as a patron. I accepted it that I have to work twice as hard as anyone else to earn respect and I was willing to as well. However, I expected a mature and respectful discussion about this, not attempted rape! Should I look over my shoulder in fear every time I make an unpopular decision? Live in fear in a place I consider home? "

Meg puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Calm down Celia. I can fully understand your frustration and I agree with you how unfair and frightening the situation is. However, please realize this is an extreme situation by a man who had been notorious for years. From everyone else , whether they fully accepted you or barely tolerate you as a patron, you have nothing to fear."

"Meg is right, Celia. Besides, no innocent woman is harmed in this opera house, I make sure of it."

Erik has returned from his lair with the medicine kit. I wonder how much he has heard from my conversation with Meg.

He sits next to me on the bed, bandages in his hand and a grave expression on his face.

"I know it's not very proper but I can bandage the cuts on your leg for you, if you want me to?"

"It's alright, thank you Erik."

"Alright. Meg, can you help me clean the wounds and make sure they don't become infected?"

Great, extra scars, as if my legs aren't already covered with them. I'm starting to feel insecure about it and both of my friends notice it.

"Are you sure you are alright with it? I can understand it's not proper and…"

I stop him.

"Erik, my apprehension is rooted in the knowledge that my legs never have been a beautiful sight to behold and are very scarred, not because of you. It's alright, truly. Just know, I'm insecure about my legs in general."

Erik raises an eyebrow, silently pointing out that it's impossible for him to say something about scars and physical beauty without sounding either cynical or very ironic. Meg looks like she wants to comment on my confession but stays silent after glancing at Erik's mask.

I pull up my skirts and my friends inspect my injuries. Meg carefully cleans the wounds while Erik curses under his breath as he sees the damage done, before gently bandaging my leg.


	28. Chapter 28

Bittersweet Chapter 28: A mask comes off

Celia's PoV

I stay silent as Meg and Erik treat my wounds as gentle as possible. I've calmed down a little and am glad that in the end, nothing serious happened. Despite my initial panic, I know that my beloved opera house was a safe place and with Malhomme gone, even safer. However, Malhomme's words still haunt me. I know he just said the things he said because of his bruised ego but the words cut me on a far deeper level than his power-hungry attack, as they had hit old, painful insecurities.

After my legs have been bandaged, Meg announces she wants to get some sleep and gives me a hug and Erik an shy wave before parting. After she has left, Erik looks at me and hands me a bottle with a colorless fluid in it.

"There's a medicine in this bottle that induces a dreamless sleep. I thought you'd might want it in case you'd get nightmares. I use it often, it works well."

I give him a smile and thank him, touched by his thoughtfulness. He, the Giry's and monsieur Khan have been angels for me tonight and I'm thankful for that. He turns around, ready to leave but I stop him.

"Erik, wait, could you stay here? I want to ask you something."

I feel terribly awkward to ask him what I'm about to ask but long before the attack, the questions I want to ask, have plagued my mind. Malhomme's words had increased my worries and insecurities, to the point that I fear I'd regret not asking for a male point of view as an answer, if I don't have the guts to do it now.

Besides, who else could I ask? Of all the men I trust enough to even bear asking these very delicate, awkward and slightly embarrassing questions, Valere is dead, Berenger would do a fine job of turning into an overprotective brother and Stefano? I would rather run naked through the opera house than asking what I want to ask. In fact, because he never was able to love me the way I loved him for a very long time, he only increased my insecurities, as much as it wasn't his intention to do so. Erik is the only man left I feel I can ask. After all, he sees me at my most vulnerable now and although I haven't seen his deformity, I know I saw him in a very vulnerable position the evening I comforted him over his broken heart and seeing Christine again.

Erik sits beside me on the bed again and looks at me curiously.

"Look, what I'm about to ask you is very delicate, private and slightly embarrassing for me to ask you but I need a male point of view and I feel you're the only one I can ask. If you don't wish to give your point of view, that's fine, just say so now and I'll never mention it again. Your answer will not influence our working and/or private relationship, nor my opinion of you. However, if you do give me an answer, please be honest. Do not try to spare me because I've had a rough night or because of, God forbid, pity. Also, please keep this conversation private"

"I'll try to give you an honest answer, help you as much as I can and be discreet about it. You asked me about giving you a male point of view about something, I believe? I'll be happy to help you but are you sure you want an answer from a man who has been shunned by society for all his life?"

I shake my head. "I believe your observational skills will actually come in handy now.

Anyway, how much have you heard from my conversation with Meg?"

"From the moment on you admitted you were afraid you were going to be attacked again because you're doing a man's job. I did not mean to eavesdrop but…."

"Erik, it's alright, I don't mind. In fact, I'm glad you did it because my explanation will be shorter now."

I sigh deeply, feeling both nervous and insecure for telling Erik some of my deepest insecurities but I know I will regret it even more if I don't.

"Look, I know I don't behave the way a lady of my social position should. I know I'm too honest, bold, blunt, stubborn as a mule and have the ambitions of a man. I know I'm not a graceful, innocent, delicate little flower who's always happy and always kind and submissive to everyone and everything around her without even wondering if that's what she wants. I don't mind serving my possible future husband at all but I want to serve him as a wife because I _choose_ to do so, not because I should as a wifely, womanly duty. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud that I do not behave as most woman, or else I would have never achieved what I've achieved so far. I'm proud of that and I hope that in the future, another woman, who's like me, will not have to fight against prejudice every day anymore."

While I say this, I avoid looking at Erik. As much as I respect, care about him and trust him, I feel far too self-conscious now.

"The point is Erik, I do want to get married and have children. I do want to find a loving husband or at least one that respects me. However, with the exception of Valere and Berenger, all the men I know choose submissive women who are as fragile and delicate as china dolls as their brides, not blunt women like me and even if they do show interest, all they want to do is 'tame' me into the lady I'm supposed to be but which I'm not and make some sort of trophy wife. Even men who have a lot of respect for women like me and applaud my achievement of being the first female patron of the Palais Garnier opera, choose those perfect, angelic women over me"

I hate how fragile and bitter my voice sounds now but I continue anyway.

"Even Stefano did.

I know I'm not exactly objective in my opinion of who he decided to marry but Erik, Dominique doesn't even seem to have any opinions of her own! Now that I'm not in love with Stefano anymore I'd love to get to know her better for she is to marry one of my best friends but every time I ask her about her opinion about something, she just parrots Stefano's words, even using his exact same phrasings and I have a difficulty to accept that even men with whom I can spend hours having meaningful conversations with, choose brides that literally agree with everything they say, like a sort of personal Jesus."

I swallow. Here comes the hardest part.

"Erik, I don't want to end up as an old spinster and I'm afraid I will be one if I don't change who I am. I know I'll never be a perfect lady but tell me, do I have to try to be more delicate, more demure and gentle, in order to find love? In order to marry? Is my behavior really so repulsive and unattractive? I am willing to change, for as much as my stubbornness has helped me, it's not a trait a necessarily like. I want to be more graceful too. But should I try to change all of this, really try, if I don't wish to end up alone? Don't get me wrong, I may agree with some points of the suffragettes but I'm not the man-hating kind, you know that. I just want someone to show he genuinely cares for me. As a lover, not as a friend. "

Erik's legendary hearing comes in handy now, for my final words have been so silently uttered, most people would not have heard them.

Erik's PoV

When Celia has finished speaking she looks at me expectantly, while I ponder what to say. I'm not sure what to think, actually, a lot of emotions and thoughts seem to go though me right now as a reaction to Celia's confession. A part of me wants to yell in anger at society for making a talented and kind woman feel she has to apologize for not being empty-headed. I hate how sad and forlorn she looks and seeing the usually so bold and brave woman so fragile, breaks my heart.

I also realize, sadly, how much she reminds me of a younger version of myself right now. Yes, while wondering if someone would love you because of your face differs from wondering if someone would ever love you because of your behavior or even personality, I wonder if the differences matters much, for the idea of having to change who you are in order to find love is very painful in general. Besides, trying to change into a perfect angel in order to make someone love you doesn't work anyway. If anyone knows that, it's me.

Also, I realize that I'm not better than any of the men who shunned her in favor of someone more delicate. Logically, I could have known a woman as innocent as Christine, who preferred to believe in angels until she was old enough to marry, over the truth, would never have the strength to marry a difficult man like me. Why did I never fall in love with a woman like Antoinette? I had known her for years, she had proven to be far more stronger and even more trustworthy than Christine ever was and she never was repulsed by my face. Rationally, she would have been a far better match than a Swedish waif 15 years younger than me who never got over the death of her father. Then again, love is never rational.

But to go back to her question, why do men prefer women who are so dependent of them, such helpless damsels, not giving independent woman even a second glance? Because dependent women are easier to love? Out of some male pride and need to protect them? Even though she wouldn't admit it, Celia needs as much protection, if only in a slightly different way, than those damsels. Everyone wants to be loved and valued by others, it's the most important lesson I learned in my life long solitude.

Celia looks at me nervously and I silently curse myself. I already yell at everyone the moment my mask leaves my face, immediately assuming the worst but the moment someone else dares to emotionally unmask herself, sharing very private insecurities with me and asking for my advice, I'm slack jawed like a damn fool! I feel like a hypocrite now, her question gives me some surprising insights I didn't think I'd have when we started this conversation.

So, what do I say?

The point is, partially, she's right. In a way, not just women but also men choose for someone who is easier to love.

While I've always cursed women for always choosing the handsome prince charming, could I not say the same thing about men always choosing perfect princesses? Didn't it work both ways? It's obviously what Celia is trying to say.

I could immediately have called Celia bitter and hateful towards men but am I not exactly the same in assuming all women are only interested in men who are handsome, never giving me any chance whatsoever because of my face? I dare say, I'm even more bitter than Celia ever would be, since she does seem to admit there are men who would give her chance, just not the men she would want. Men like Stefano. That thought did make me feel bitter, for he, unintentionally, is the main reason for her insecurity. For believing she has to be an innocent damsel instead of a mature woman who can take care of herself and think for herself.

After all, that's exactly what Stefano did in choosing Dominique, who adores everything he says, over Celia, who discusses her opinions with him and does not always obey. Dominique has been the easier choice for Stefano, as the De Chagney boy had been for Christine.

Suddenly I know what to say.

"To give you the bad news: yes, there are men who prefer a women who obeys to their every wish. The point is, do you want such a man?" I couldn't help but grin when I try to picture Celia with such a man and to my relief, she gives me a small grin back. "No, I want a strong, intelligent man who truly loves me for me and understands my passion for music.''

''That's exactly my point. You don't want to be married just because you're supposed to, you just don't want to be alone. Those are two different things. Plus, I know there's a lot of pressure on women of your station to marry but knowing you, you'd rather be an old spinster than marry someone for any other reason than love. In the end, that's what you want isn't it?

Love?

My dear, if I had known how to find it, did you think I would have burned half of my home down in trying to pursue Christine? Or would you just settle for money and a title?'' I tease her a little to lighten the mood.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh believe me Erik, if I wanted to marry someone because of money and a title, I would have married Raoul's brother Philippe years ago.''

The idea of Celia married to a brother of that idiot fop suddenly boils my blood. While I simply raise my eyebrow as a reaction, I feel incredibly annoyed inside.

"Philippe is slightly less foppish and more mature, so if I had to choose, he would be the less annoying choice. Still, I sincerely dislike the idea,'' she answers my unspoken question.

"Anyway, what you truly want is love. Celia, what you want is the rarest thing in the world and some never even find it. However, I see no reason why you should be so unfortunate. The point is, that, at least I hope so for you sake, there will be a man who will love you and accept you as you are because if he truly loves you, he will admire your courage and will not wish for you to change. If he would want you to turn into something you're not and never will be, I doubt he truly loves you. Besides, really changing is very difficult to do, anyway. Sure, you could pretend to be an innocent, demure angel but trust me, it will not work. So, to answer your question: no, you shouldn't pretend to be someone you're not, not if you want someone to love you for who you are. And if he dares to hurt you, he has to go through me first."

Celia smiles tiredly at me. "I guess you're right. Thanks for everything, Erik. I hope I didn't sound to mean and frustrated about your gender, that was never my intention. I also didn't mean to dump all of my insecurities on you but…"

I chuckle about her remark concerning men and stop her from apologizing, feeling honored that she trusts me enough to confide in me about such delicate insecurities, instead of annoyance and I say so to her as well. Besides, she was there for me after my reunion with Christine and I do not forget that. I shyly pat her back, trying to give her comfort, although I still cannot believe she actually sought it from me tonight. She gives me a hug to thank me and a warm feeling envelopes my heart when she embraces me

We say goodnight and she falls asleep. I watch her for a moment, feeling a deep urge to protect her within me, before going back to my lair to get some sleep as well.

Meanwhile….

Nadir's PoV

It's been a while since I've seen Antoinette and as strange as both of our lives had been, I never predicted that we would have to bring an aspiring rapist to a police station during our long awaited reunion. As much as I cannot wait to ask her about how her own life has been since we last saw each other, my curiosity over the new patroness and the bond she has with my troubled best friend, wins it.

"So, what exactly is going on between Erik and miss Godain?" Apparently, Antoinette hears the concern in my voice.

"Celia will not be a new Christine, don't worry. I know what it looks like; she's young, beautiful and loves music as much as he does but it's not in her personality to react the same as Christine would have, should Erik ever fall in love with her.''

"Oh, I have no doubt she is far stronger and braver than the Vicomptess, she has to be in order to achieve what she has achieved so far. However, Erik, the most stubborn man on earth, collaborating with someone in managing the Opera Garnier? It doesn't sound like him. Besides, they do have an interesting bond. In fact, if there was any other man involved than Erik, I would have believed they were a couple, based on the fierce protectiveness Erik showed and the love miss Godain seems to show for him, in turn. The moment we pulled Malhomme off of her, she ran to Erik, feeling safe with him. She's probably the first person ever who showed this emotion in relation to his person."

Antoinette nods. "If it weren't for Celia's social status as a lady, I actually do think they would be a good couple and judging by Meg's comments, she believes the same. In fact, the only ones who do not see their connection, are Erik and Celia themselves. It was there since the moment they first met."

I give her a curious look and she explains.

"Erik and Celia have a lot in common, which explains the easy start of their friendship. Both aren't able to reach their full potential in the arts, Erik because of his face, Celia because of her gender, status and the responsibilities that are the consequences of the first two, both fell in love with someone who choose another who was easier to love,leaving them cynical and frustrated, both would do anything for music, love and the arts, both are incredibly passionate and incredibly stubborn, both know what it's like to fight against prejudice and while Erik always gave her the benefit of the doubt many others did not gave Celia because of her sex, she, in turn, never judged Erik based on past rumors or his mask."

I nod, storing the information for future pondering. In all honesty, I wonder if miss Godain was perhaps a more suited woman for Erik to love, whether as a friend or as a romantic partner, than Christine had ever been.

''It will be interesting to see how this plays out in the future. Now, we're nearly back at the opera house. Would you care for a nightcap before we go to sleep, Annie?''

She answers me with a warm smile.


	29. Chapter 29

Bittersweet Chapter 29: Strange events

Stefano's PoV

I walk quickly through the Palais Garnier, heading for Celia's room. The prima ballerina Meghan Giry warned Berenger, Rosalie, Angelique, Victoria and me that our dear friend was attacked by a stagehand last night and I'm really worried about her. I sigh, thinking of our difficult relationship. Celia is an amazing friend and I truly love her, just not in the way she wished of me. Part of me still feels guilty of breaking her heart but what was I to do? Lie to her? That would have hurt her even more and although I have plenty of flaws, I'm not cruel.

Just when I raise my hand to knock on the door of Celia's office, I hear a voice. My mouth drops, for it is the most beautiful male voice I have ever heard. Rich and warm…and strangely familiar. Where have I heard it before? It is not the voice of the male tenor of this opera house. Speaking of which, why isn't this man lead tenor? If his voice is so shockingly beautiful when he speaks, he could be the best tenor in Europe, the moment he sings. I listen again and raise an eyebrow when I hear Valere's name mentioned. Knowing Celia only tells friends about his tragic life, she and the owner of the voice must be close. I wonder curiously if she ever introduced me to him and search my memory for a man with such a remarkable voice. Suddenly I realize I've been eavesdropping and I knock on the door, my face colored in embarrassment. When I hear Celia's permission to enter, I curiously walk inside.

She is alone in the room.

Berenger's Pov

I pace around, deep in thought. As glad as I am that Celia is relatively well despite the attack, I've got the gut feeling something else is going on. As the quiet, observing member of the group of friends, I noticed Celia was apprehensive about telling me about her savior, as if she was hiding something. It does nothing to decrease my worries. Rosalinde, my wife, notices my unease. Just when she opens her mouth to ask what's troubling me, I voice my concerns.

"You saw that pig that attacked Celia once, didn't you? What did he look like?' She scrunches her face to try to remember.

"Big, burly. Tall as well. It's a good thing Celia was helped because really, she had no chance against that man. He's a giant, certainly compared to a petite woman like her."

"Do you remember the man who saved her?"

"That sweet foreign gentleman, you mean?" Her eyes widen in realization. "Celia told me he was the head of police in Persia. He must have learned some tricks here, or else he couldn't have won that fight. A man with an average amount of muscle and average height couldn't have won the fight from such a big and burly man by strength alone. Perhaps he had some help?"

"Could be. But we basically met everyone Celia talks to in the entire opera house. Surely she would have introduced us to her second savior?"

"Are you saying she deliberately hides the possible second man who might have saved her, from us? Berenger, do I even need to say it?'' She raises an eyebrow at me.

"I know, I'm being overprotective." As the eldest of the group, I have always tended to behave like a mother hen over a bunch of ducklings but I feel I've grown even worse since Valere's death.

"In all honesty, can you blame me? Everyone in our group of friends has been attacked, verbally and even physically, because we're the eccentrics of Paris, by people of all social classes, from beggars to Barons. We've already lost Valere because of it, your virtue is being questioned because of depicting nudity in your art, even though we married years ago and I'm even more worried about Celia, Angelique and Victoria. The three of them are more outspoken in either the suffragette movement, the desire to be an unmarried woman of science or to manage the opera house more thorough than any manager and if they're being attacked in whatever way by some idiot who feels threatened, there's no one to protect them for Stefano and I cannot always be there, should it be necessary. As much as I admire them, I know that not every Parisian citizen appreciates their boldness and all it takes is for one of them to get drunk and aggressive. That's exactly what happened last night."

"In that case, someone could learn Celia how to defend herself." My rant is interrupted by Victoria. Angelique, who nods approvingly to Victoria's statement, is standing behind her in the doorway.

"Victoria is right Berenger. You know Celia would never quit her job as long as she's able and allowed to do it. She wouldn't let her hard work go to waste and she loves the Populaire far too much," Angelique points out.

"Celia should be able to defend herself," Victoria adds. "Valere taught me a few defense tricks, I can always offer Celia to teach them to her?''

"It won't ease my worries completely but I guess it's the best solution for now," I reply

"Berenger, nothing eases your worries completely." Victoria rolls her eyes before winking at me.

Rosalinde sighs. "I'm less enthusiastic about this plan than you two are because its riskier but I'm afraid I know no other solution. We mustn't forget that in training Celia's fighting skills, there won't be just the problem of her lack of physical strength because of her gender, but also the fact that Celia is physically weaker than an average woman. We all know that how clumsy she is. I'm sure that a few fighting lessons are always helpful, if done discreet to avoid even worse rumors about her virtue and decency than there already are but do be cautious and not give her the hope that she, as a petite and physically vulnerable women can win in a fair fight against a man nearly twice her size in width and nearly half a meter* taller than her. Maybe, if she's lucky and appears to have natural talent she'll do some damage but any more than that isn't realistic."

"I guess you're right, Rosalinde. Caution could be helpful in this situation. However, we also mustn't forget that Celia isn't standing completely alone in this. She has us and even though we do not live at the opera, we can support her like she supports us. Also, she has friends and protectors in the Garnier. People helped her then and people will help her again," Angelique points out.

I immediately react to Angelique's use of the plural form. "So you believe as well more than one person rescued her?''

''Berenger…." Rosalinde scolds gently.

"Look, I know I'm overprotective and I fully admit it but I just think it's strange that a man of average build and an age of forty is able to fight a winning fight against a man half his age and twice his size, so I believe he has had some help. Second, Celia has introduced the entire opera house to us by now but yet she gives me the feeling she's hiding something, or rather someone, from us right now. If she wants to do so, I don't mind, don't get me wrong, I just think it's out of character for her."

"You're right. Well, I guess we'll find out in time. Perhaps monsieur Khan is really her only rescuer, perhaps not but no matter who helped her, I'm glad she _was _helped," Rosalinde ends the discussion.

At that moment, Stefano walks in and notices the looks on our faces. He raises an eyebrow.

"Have I missed something?"

"Stefano, have you noticed something strange lately? You're the one who knows the Garnier almost just as well as Celia."

"Other than the attack on her? Well, now you mentioned it, I heard the most beautiful male voice I've ever heard in her room this morning but when I entered, she was alone."

"You both look and sound like a mooning girl. Should Dominique be worried?"

I snort and even Stefano laughs. Victoria is right, normally the look of affectionate wonder on Stefano's face when describing that masculine voice is normally reserved for either music or Dominique.

"We just discussed the possibility that Celia was saved by two men, not one and she is so mysteriously silent about the identity of the second one it's out of character for her. Perhaps that voice belonged to a secret protector?" Angelique tells him.

"Yes, a man she masks in mystery," my wife adds.

As much as I love her, she does love those gothic romance novels too much. I have to admit though, that the Garnier, with all its beautiful halls and dark cellars, is the perfect location for such a story.

At her words though, Stefano pales in realization. Victoria suddenly look wary too and when Stefano exclaims he has to go back to the opera house to check something, she follows him, leaving the three of us behind in confusion.

Erik's PoV

I had been checking Celia's bandages when Stefano D'Evanchy knocked on her door. He entered after I had hidden behind the two way mirror that gives access to my lair and I try not to make audible noises to vent my annoyance. I wish I didn't have to hide.

When Celia smiles at Stefano my annoyance only grows. Thankfully, he leaves shortly after and I return to my lair.

In my walk back I realize that my annoyance isn't really for my faith as a deformed monster, it's irrationally and for the mere presence of Stefano. In all honesty, I can't resent him for anything: when I met him, he treated me with the same politeness as Celia did when we first met, when it comes to music, we discovered in our single conversation we shared similar views and even when it comes to Celia, I cannot blame him for anything. True, he hurt her because he didn't return her feelings but as far as I know, he never took advantage or abused her unfortunately love for him, nor did he ever lie to her. I pause in my musings.

Could I be jealous of Stefano because Celia was once in love with him? Because a part of her will always care for him, just like I will always care for Christine?

I shake my head, trying to physically remove my last thoughts. I guess I'm still busy to digest the events of last night. When I saw Mallhomme attacking Celia I felt an anger that surprises me, in hindsight. Sure, if the Giry's, or even any other woman was assaulted, I'd feel anger too but the last and before last night, only person I'd felt this possessive, hot-blooded anger for….was Christine. Also, when I was busy strangling Malhomme, the thought of losing Celia _just like Christine_ over my temper, was the only thing that stopped me.

On top of that, when she sought comfort in me (of all people), confided her deepest insecurities and held me tight, I couldn't help but to notice the warm feelings I have in my heart for her.

But of what nature are those feelings? I'm not blind, I can see she's beautiful and the fact that she isn't aware of it, only increases her charm. Also, when I praised her in front of Nadir, I meant every word I said. I even dare say she's one of the few people on this Earth I trust. Sort of, at least. However, those simply could be the feelings of a love-starved man towards any showing of kindness.

The moment I tell myself this, I remember how I had looked at her when I was her date for the masquerade ball. Even her friend Victoria noticed it. I remember how I accidentally saw her in her sleeping dress once and no matter how embarrassed we both were, I did notice how beautiful she was. How beautiful I think she is, every time I see her. I remember how irrationally jealous I felt last night when she mentioned off-handedly she might have been married to the fop's brother in another life. I remember how jealous I feel now of the thought of her past feelings for Stefano.

I groan and put my head in my hands. Maybe I should I admit I have a weak spot in my heart for her. Heaven help me if that weak spot develops into something more, something deeper, for I'm sure that Celia would never feel anything else for me, other than friendship. Who would? I'm even surprised she's willing to be my friend.

Suddenly her words of last night come back to me: "_I want a strong, intelligent man who truly loves me for me and understands my passion for music.'' _Well, if there's one thing I understand, it is her passion for music. I know I'm not exactly dumb either and after all I've been through, I do consider myself strong in more ways than one….and wait a minute, what the hell am I thinking?

I really need to stop this train of thought.

*I use the European metric system. To the American readers: I picture Celia as 5.4ft (The French are generally not very tall) and Mallhomme as 6.4ft.


	30. Chapter 30

Bittersweet Chapter 30: Sinners and saints

Henry Faibles, a stagehands' PoV

I nervously walk to the jail cells. This is the last place I want to be, visiting the last person I want to see. However, I'm afraid I haven't got a choice. I'm disgusted by the fact that Claude Malhomme attacked miss Godain but since he knows what I've done, I have to bend to his will in order to keep my job at the Opera house.

I'm even more disgusted with myself than I am with Malhomme.

"What do you want?"

''Not so rude Faibles, if you continue to treat me with this attitude, I will tell Andre and Firmin it was you who stole the money in the office to spend it on cheep liquor the moment I leave this rotten cell.

However, I didn't summon you hear to argue, there's something I want to tell you.''

I hate the idea that I'm being summoned like a chambermaid but I know he's right. He has but to say the words and I show up, as afraid as I am. Miss Godain might show some mercy if she discovers I've become a thief because of my love for wine but I doubt the managers will.

"It wasn't that Persian copper who pulled Godain away from me. It was a lasso. The man who used it on me had a mask.''

I freeze. There is only one man, one madman in the opera who stalks the halls, uses a lasso and wears the mask. I had always believed he had perished in the fire when that soprano had fled from him. The whole crew had believed he was gone.

"Do you think….do you think he's still…?''

"Alive?'' Yes. Don't you think it's strange that after all that has happened, everyone simply accepted the story that he had died? There's a reason why we don't hear any of his demands anymore: Godain has become his new whore! There's no need for him to write everything he wants in a letter because she's carrying out all of his wishes."

He pauses. "I need you to be my eyes and ears in the opera house Faibles.'' The moment we've got any proof that Miss Godain is the O.G's new trollop, she'll leave. I'll get my job back, your job will not be in danger anymore and she'll have learned her place is in the kitchen to serve a husband.''

Meanwhile…

Erik's PoV

After the attack on Celia, everything went back to normal. However, Celia did tell her employees about the attack. I'm not really sure if it was a smart maneuver because telling everyone how she nearly lost her virtue did make her look weak. On the other hand, her brutal honesty could sway those who didn't know what to think of her in her favor, by telling the truth she made sure she nipped rumors in the butt and lastly, by showing she was shaken but unharmed, she made sure that any others who thought of attacking her, would be punished.

Also, Jean Menuet, an old friendly stagehand who everyone liked (including me) was hired as a counselor. Anyone within the opera house who simply needed someone to talk to in confidence but didn't want to talk to Celia or the managers, could go to old Jean. By doing this, she made sure that everyone knew safety within the halls of the Palais Garnier was one of her main priorities. Thankfully, no one complained about me to Menuet. Unwanted attention, theft or bullying were bigger problems than a disfigured monster whom everyone believed to be a ghost anyway.

About a month after the attack, Celia hands me an envelope in one of our meetings. I curiously open it to find an initiation to a party.

"In two weeks I'm planning to celebrate my 23th birthday party with my friends here in the Garnier and I would love it if you'd come. It's just Meg, Antoinette, Nadir and I and the dinner party is held on the roof of the opera house. No one but us will know we're there.''

As she explains, a warm feeling takes a hold on my heart. She really wants me to come to her birthday? I can't even remember if anyone ever asked me to be a guest at their birthday party before. Does she even realize how much the invitation means to me? How much she means to me?

I smile at her and suddenly I feel incredibly shy. "I would love to come, as long you can ensure everyone's safety. I am a wanted man you know," I remind her gently.

"I understand. I would never put you or any of my other guests in jeopardy, though, I promise. Nadir has already told me he'll keep on the lookout and make sure we aren't caught."

Ever since the attack Celia and Nadir had become fast friends. I'm not sure if I liked that fact or not.

''Good''.

After Celia has left, I start to panic. What on earth am I going to buy for her? Which present is suitable for a woman who can buy anything she wants herself? I do want to give her something that will make her happy after all the kindness she has shown me. Maybe she'll hug me again…..

I halt those thoughts. How love- and attention-starved am I that I'm still thinking back of that hug she once gave me after I comforted her. Very love- and attention-starved apparently, since I can still remember the feel of her arms around me and the swell of her breasts against my chest.

I groan as I sit down in front of my organ. Since when did I turn into such a pervert?

Anyway, back to the task at hand: a birthday gift for Celia. What could I possibly buy her. Suddenly I've got an idea and I smirk. She's going to love this so much more than anything I could possibly buy.

I'm going to make her biggest dream come true.


	31. Chapter 31

Bittersweet Chapter 31: City life

**A/n: You can still watch shows in the Opera Garnier, which I highly recommend but you can also do the tour. The last time I was in Paris, the tickets for the show that evening were sold out but I did get the grand tour for 10 euros. It was amazing. If you like old art and architecture, I can truly recommend doing the guided tour. They offer them in English. The guide couldn't help but to make a few jokes about their resident house-ghost either :P.**

**Also, the Salpetriere and Biecetre are the two Parisian madhouses. They are both rather famous in my field of work (I'm a trainee psychologist) because owner Phillipe Pinel was the first owner to treat its inhabitants in a humane way instead of chaining them to the walls without food for days. (True story.) Also, a lot of famous people in the history of psychiatry worked there, including good old Sigmund Freund. I'll shut up now.**

Celia's PoV

I smile as I stare at the most beautiful view I've ever had the pleasure of seeing in my life so far: the skyline of Paris by night. The location: the roof of my beloved Opera. Today was the eve of my birthday. Tomorrow in the afternoon and night, I would spend it with a lunch with my family before enjoying the Parisian nightlife with Victoria, Berenger, Stefano, Rosalinde and Angelique but tonight I was celebrating my 22th birthday with the small, loyal group of friends I've made in the opera house. That small group consists of the Giry's, Erik and Nadir.

I has been an evening of joy, laughter, good food, wine and deep conversation so far. Even though I didn't think it likely that anyone other than us would go to the opera house roof at midnight, Nadir still keeps an eye on the door in order to warn us. One guest of my small party is a wanted man after all.

After handing out invitations, I announced earlier this evening that I wanted to go to bed early to be well-rested for my birthday and wished to be undisturbed for the night. Then, all of us carried a table and chairs to the roof. I made sure I had changed into my favorite dress and had carried a few bottles of excellent wine, fruit juice and fine finger foods to the roof before welcoming my guests. I made sure all of us could enjoy dinner; I knew beforehand that Nadir doesn't drink alcohol because of his religion and I could imagine taking big bites of food wouldn't be easy while wearing a half-mask, so I made sure the fruit juice and finger food were there.

I'm really happy about how the night has gone so far. Even though Meg was a little nervous around Erik at first (who wouldn't be), she relaxed around him and later that night I swear I could even see Meg tell him jokes.

After dinner, Erik played music for all of us to enjoy. All of it was beautiful, although there was one particular song that stood out.

It gave me the chance to stare at the enigmatic man that I've grown to care deeply about. Sure, it was the last person I wanted to have on my bad side but many of the stories told were painfully untrue. In all honesty, I couldn't help but wonder how his life would have turned out if he hadn't been born with the deformity.

Something tells me Christine wouldn't have chosen Raoul-of all people- if Erik hadn't been handsome.

I also wonder if Erik had ever chosen a poor Swedish orphan, if that had been the case. It wouldn't have surprised me if many women had fallen at his feet if both sides of his face had been equally beautiful.

As I listen to his music, I realize how much my life had changed in the past year. Not only because of my job, as much as I love it, also because I couldn't picture my life without this group of people in it anymore. Couldn't picture my life without Erik.

When I first heard the stories about O.G. when I still visited the Opera as a guest, I thought it were the results of an overactive imagination. I could easily picture myself getting lost in fantastic stories about a lonely ghosts to pulls pranks on people to ease his boredom while making beautiful music, in a place like the Paris Opera. All you have to do is simply walk through the halls and up or down the grand staircase, filled with paintings, a stage so big the arc du triomphe could fit in there, statues, painted ceilings, mirrors, a beautiful library and twenty-two kinds of marble used on the mosaics on the floor. It's not difficult to think up elaborate stories about ghost if you live here.

If you told me a few years ago I would not only be the first resident female patron like I dreamed of being but also that the O.G. existed and become one of my best friends, I would have warned Salpêtriere or Biecetre.

Maybe it was my happy mood, the wine or the fact that I wasn't as hung up on Stefano D'Evanchy as I used to be but in all honesty, I think Erik looks surprisingly dashing as he plays the violin. If I weren't disturbed by the fact that I'm having these thoughts about Erik (!) I would even dare say he is very handsome if you forget the mask.

Not that I would ever tell him of course. Besides, even if I did, he would never believe me, his self-confidence shot to hell after years of abuse.

Meg walks towards me and together we gaze at the Parisian lights beneath us. I know that many people would frown upon our friendship because of our difference in background but I couldn't care less. If she ever needed someone, my door will always be open for Marguerite Giry and I know I can always count on her as well.

"It makes you feel like you're on top of the world, doesn't it.''

''Ah but my dear Meg, we are on top of the world.''

We giggle but we know it's true.

After all, Meg has finally become prima ballerina and the critics adore her, as they should. I even caught that Michel, Meg's favorite cello player she's had a crush on for ages, stare at her.

Shortly after, Nadir and Antoinette, who had been remarkable close for the entire evening, announced they were going to bed. Meg left about fifteen minutes later as well, leaving me alone on the roof with Erik.

''Did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

I gave him a warm smile.

''I did, thank you Erik.''

He looks nervous and I'm wondering what is going on.

''I want to ask you something. ''

"Go ahead.''

"You know I'm working on my new opera. In the second act, I'm planning a role for a fairy-like character who plays the violin, right on stage.''

He takes a big gulp of air before continuing.

"I was hoping you would play the fairy woman. You would be heavily disguised of course, so no one would know it was you and no one would call you indecent but it gives you the chance to stand on that stage and play your violin for an audience. By planning it in the middle of the opera, everyone will be engrossed in the show and no one would notice you disappear.''

By now I'm staring at him like he's an actual ghost.

"You mean performing one of my own compositions in front of a live audience, in the Garnier? Erik…but…that's my dream…."

"I know, you told me yourself, as well as the reasons that are stopping you from making it come true. This is the way to ensure it will happen without you ending up in trouble. I do wish to choose your composition though, for it has to fit with the other songs in the opera. Maybe you could compose with me?''

If he suddenly had asked me to marry him I would have been less surprised than I am now but in the meantime I couldn't help to smile in joy and be incredibly touched. He just made my dreams come true!

Perhaps I care more deeply for Erik than I even realize myself.

"Oh Erik. Yes, I would be love to..I mean, I'm honored…"

Erik looks slightly nervous at the fact that I'm slightly teary-eyed (oh well, afterwards I'll blame the wine) and stuttering before relaxing slightly as he notices how happy he has made me.

As if I haven't been spoiled enough today by my friends. Meg has bought me a beautiful necklace, Antoinette has given me that new novel 'The picture of Dorian Grey' by that flamboyant dandy Oscar Wilde, Nadir has given me an exotic smelling perfume from Persia and I had received a toolkit for my beloved violin from Erik.

I can't help but to give Erik a hug before gently kissing his unmasked cheek in thanks.

Erik's PoV

Wait…did she just kiss me?

Granted, it was on my cheek but still…

Did _she_ just kiss me?

Did she just kiss _me_?

I watch as Celia takes the dirty plates back to her room, gently touching the place where she kissed me.

"Please don't tell me she'll be the next Christine.''

My thoughts are disturbed by Antoinette, who has came back to retrieve her forgotten back.

"I don't know what you're talking about.''

"Erik, the last time I saw you look at a woman like that, was when you were still ob…in love with Christine''.

"I know I was obsessed Antoinette. You don't have to mind your words here. Not around me. But to answer your question, no, Celia isn't a new Christine."

I sigh and sit down. Knowing Antoinette won't stop questioning me otherwise, I decide to be honest.

"Look, I know how it looks like, I'm not stupid. Of course I think Celia is a beautiful woman. Any man with decent eyesight does. Combined with the fact that we share a lot of similarities, it's an easy conclusion to draw that I've fallen in love with her. Maybe I do, just a bit. However, just because I care for her, doesn't mean that any feelings I may have for her are even remotely similar to what I once felt for Christine. "

Antoinette raises an eyebrow.

"You can tell the old Persian fool this as well, Anne."

"How do you know…"

"Know that you and Nadir have gossiped about this?" I finish her question.

"Because I know the two of you."

My old friend simply rolls her eyes before grabbing the bag where she came for in the first place.

"It's getting late Erik and I'm tired."

"Goodnight."

I wish her goodnight.

"No Erik, the reason why your feelings for Christine differ from the ones you have for Celia, is because you finally are starting to learn the difference between love and obsession," she mutters under her breath as she leaves.

Obviously she didn't intend for me to hear that.

I pretend I didn't hear her anyway.


	32. Chapter 32

Bittersweet Chapter 32: Love and anger

**Allegro and presto are musical terms for the speed of music. Allegro means the song is moderately fast, whereas presto means the song is quick paced. Momtmartre is the 18****th**** arrondisment in Paris and became known at the end of the 1800's as the bohemian, arty place to be.**

Antoinette Giry's PoV

"It should be allegro!"

"No, it should be presto! Allegro doesn't emphasize the passion the gipsy girl feels!"

"She's just thinking of him! Presto fits better in the end of the first act, when she sees him again!"

I roll my eyes as Nadir and I hear Erik and Celia's quibbling before seeing them. It's also a miracle no one else has heard them yet. I can't say I'm surprised, though.

"Allah help me, the two most stubborn people ever created, composing together. It's a miracle the opera house is still standing," Nadir voices my thoughts.

I nod. "On the other hand, when they do agree about something…." I pause.

Erik's work has always been magnificent but in my opinion, he was creating his best works now, together with Celia. She was very talented as well but musically speaking, Erik does manage to bring the best out of her. The moment they weren't arguing like an old married couple, that is.

"After this, they either never want to see each other again, or get engaged," Nadir snorts before we both notice the quibble has stopped. The moment we enter our lair, we hear music.

The sweetest music I've heard in years, perhaps ever.

And in the midst of it all, I see Erik and Celia play, eyes only on each other and their instruments as the world around them ceases to exist.

Celia's PoV

What do I feel for Erik? At first I just saw him as a man who would put my old vow to the test, then as an unfortunate friend but now that I spend more time with him than before and have finally realized Stefano doesn't hold my heart anymore, have my feelings for him changed once again? I don't know.

Am I imagining the growing tension between us or is it really there?

Could it be the simple natural tension that quite often grows when a man and a woman spend their time in close quarters together?

Two musicians feeling passionate about their beloved art?

Or could it be because we are starting to care for each other more deeply than before?

Then again, even if I would ever grow obvious romantic feelings for him, would he ever be able to show any interest in a woman who isn't Christine de Chagney, born Daaé?

I shake my head to remove the thought before announcing to Rosalinde, Angelique and Victoria that I'm going to order a drink.

My friends and I had decided to go out this evening to visit the opening of a new, exclusive café in Montmartre. As much as I enjoy myself, my mind strays back to Erik.

"Did you hear she wants to be an opera diva again, standing on stage like a common harlot?"

I've just finished ordering a glass of red wine when I hear one of the women standing behind me, making the cruel remark. Even though I know they are not talking about me, I do know this is the reaction I would receive from many of the people here if they knew my dreams, so I cannot help but to feel insulted.

I also ignore it. I've seen all the familiar faces of the Parisian upper-class who have showed up here, a thousand times before and I know lady Hélene and Lady Florentine are just old and bitter. I do have a sneaking suspicion about who it is they're slandering, though.

''Poor Raoul forbids it, of course. I wouldn't be surprised if she's sleeping with that madman on the side and simply agreed to marry him because of his fortune."

My suspicions are confirmed. I force both my annoyance at the way she questions Erik's sanity as my need to roll my eyes at her comment in general. It was no secret old Hélene had wanted to snatch 'poor Raoul' for herself.

My thoughts drift off to Christine. She had to say goodbye to the entire life she had known, when she married Raoul. She had to give up music, one thing I never could. She had to spend her days within a social circle that would never fully accept her, nor any of her loved ones other than her husband.

I could understand, logically, why she preferred handsome and privileged Raoul over living in the dark with scarred and abused Erik, no matter how much I care for him but still…

Was marrying a man who hadn't even bothered to keep in touch with her for years, truly worth all this?

Could the gossip be true and does she want to go back to the Opera Populaire? Was marrying Raoul a hasty decision? I'm sure she loves him but in all the times I've met her, she hasn't convinced me she was cut out for the life of a Vicomptess and herein lies the problem. Couldn't she have turned down both men or at least waited before marrying if she hadn't been sure she knew what she had signed up for?

In all honesty, she would be welcome in 'my' opera house but frankly, I'm not thrilled with the idea.

After all, I'm the one who always comforts the other man who loves her while she goes home to dear Raoul. Does she even have any consideration for her old teacher's feelings?

The two women behind me continue to gossip about her as Victoria joins me, raising an eyebrow when she hears the slander.

That's when I see the victim of their harsh words standing a few meters away, tears in her brown doe eyes. The moment I see her, I feel a surge of angry dark emotion directed at her, which I refuse to call jealousy.

Raoul doesn't notice the pain in his wife's eyes, of course. He's happily chatting away with old Marquise Gordoné.

Victoria and I look at each other. Before I met Erik, my eccentric friends and I had always been kind to Christine, realizing quickly the horrible treatment she would receive, mostly behind her back. We all had liked her childlike kindness and wanted her to know not _all_ members of Raoul's social circle looked down upon her, even though none of us really liked her husband himself after he had abandoned Valere. We had felt pity and compassion.

Now that I had realized how deeply she had hurt one of my best friends, I didn't feel the overwhelming need to comfort her anymore, though.

I sigh. In the end my pity wins out. Besides, I cannot exactly explain my new found dislike for Christine to Victoria without increasing the risk of my friend discovering I had become friends with the opera ghost.

Hélene and Florentine continue with their bashing as the subject of their gossip is frozen in shock.

Victoria and I, glasses of wine in hand, drag Vicomptess de Chagney away.

When she's out of the public eye she cries in earnest. I offer her a handkerchief in silence as Victoria awkwardly pats her back.

After a few moments she calms down and thanks us for being there for her.

She looks at us.

"Why? Why do they treat me like this?"

"Christine, you're different. It isn't easy being different, trust us," I point out.

"But…"

"Christine, your father was a poor violinist, you grew up in the Opéra and became a diva. According to certain people here, you couldn't be more different if you had grown up on the moon," Victoria interrupts her.

"Exactly and when you're different, insecure people love to tell negative stories about you to make themselves feel better. Or…of course, they fear what they do not understand," I add, thinking of all the reactions both Valere and Erik had received because of their appearance.

"But you're different too!"

"That is true and if it weren't for you, we'd be the subject of that bitter woman's words. However, the only reason I can stand on a stage as an actress and be a suffragette and Celia can be a violinist and a female patron, is because I was born a Baroness and Celia born a Lady to a father who protects the wealth of everyone here."

"But I never did anything wrong!"

"You married above your station Christine, that's enough for them."

Victoria sighs in annoyance.

"That bloody fool of a husband of yours never warned you, did he? Doesn't even realize the things people say every time the two of you make a social call? Typical.''

"Well….he does…I think."

"Then why isn't he here? You know we mean well but we both understand you'd wish it was Raoul comforting you, rather than us."

"Anyway, he never warned you that people would never accept you, did he? Look, I truly do not wish to offend you and Victoria doesn't either, but someone has to tell you the truth and unfortunately, the truth is harsh.

No matter what you do, some people here will never accept you as a Vicomptess because your father was a musician, I'm sorry. On top of that, it is well known around here that not even Raoul's family fully accepts you."

Christine gasps. I feel bad now but really, better to hear it like this than in one of Hélene's comments.

''You know Lady Victoria, Lord Berenger and Lady Rosalinde Honores-Bably, Lady Angelique Nuitgalé and I do not reason like this but unfortunately, we can be an exception to the rule in these matters.

According to many people in this venue, you'll never truly belong here."

Christine has stopped protesting and nods, accepting what we are telling her.

"Your bloody husband should have told you," Victoria mutters.

"Sorry, that we're the ones telling you this, not Raoul but I have the feeling no one else will, otherwise. Raoul doesn't even notice."

Those last words hit home.

"Don't get me wrong, I truly love him but why can't he see that I'm treated so horribly here?!" Christine wails. This the first time I've seen her angry and I secretly applaud her.

"Because he doesn't know what it's like to be different. He has always been accepted, loved and doted upon by everyone around him and the fact that you would get a different treatment hasn't even crossed his mind," I answer her.

"We however, know what it's like," Victoria adds.

"Celia and I are different and my husband was as well."

"Was?"

"Baron Valere Sinclair was known as slightly eccentric for being a painter and loving a Baroness who is a suffragette and actress as well. However, when he returned home scarred from the war France wants to forget, he became a social pariah because of his appearance. His title, wealth and social status protected him for ending up in a freak show."

"All of this because he was scarred?"

Victoria nods sadly and I try to hide my annoyance. Thinking back of the treatment people gave one of my best friends, still makes me furious and Christine's naivety is starting to grate on my nerves. Didn't she learn anything from the whole drama with Erik, besides singing? Did she think he lived in the cellars for fun?

"Yes, all of this because he had become scarred. In fact, the main reason your husband and I cannot get along is because Raoul, one of Valere's best friends, never bothered to visit anymore the moment Valere returned to Paris. Raoul was one of his oldest friends but didn't even bother to come to our wedding, nor to Valere's funeral!"

"Raoul would never turn his back on his friend and neither am I! I'm grateful that you showed me some compassion but you must be mistaken!"

"Oh, I'm sure Raoul would never betray someone solely because scars and I know you would never turn your back on your oldest friend if you saw his disfigurements either."

How I managed to say this without sounding sarcastic, I'm not sure. I can easily remember all the pain Raoul's betrayal gave Valere and as for Christine…

Well, she does look down at her feet a little guiltily now, not meeting my eyes.

"Anyway, I'll go get Raoul. He's probably wondering where you are," Victoria excuses herself, leaving me alone with a woman whom I'm not sure how I feel about.


End file.
